Somali poems :-)

[Warsan_Star_Muslimah]

Is she milk, is she more, is she buttermilk?
Is she bread, is she bread and milk, is she?
Would you say she's good luck? Would you say
She's a riddle, or maybe the answer?
Is she kindness or thought when it's solemn?
Is she thought, is she more - an idea?

Is she clouds that give rain, clouds that gather,
Clouds that bless, clouds that crowd, clouds that linger?
Would you say she's good luck, would you say
She's the pattern of stars struck at nightfall
When the day will bring cloudwrack and rainfall?

Would you say she's green growth in the rainfall?
Would you say she's the sun in the morning
That soaks up the dew, that disperses
The mist? Is she water that gathers
In pools after rain? Is she moonlight
Reflected in pools? Is she starlight
So bright when it floods with the moonlight
That you're blind to the land that you stand on?

Would you say she's green growth that the rainfall
Has washed and made sweet? Is she water
That lies on the land like a blessing?
Is she herself sweet, is she shapely?
Is her sweetness the perfume of water?

Is she beautiful, thoughtful and clever?
Does she live as she should? Does she honour
The qualities womanhood stands for?

You can see she's not weak and not foolish;
You can see she's not lazy and sluttish,
Not stubborn or sloppy or rowdy,
Neither a shrew nor a nag, she's
A woman who keeps a full larder,
A woman who'd greet you and feed you.

She's the lie of the stars that brings rainfall,
Not the set of the stars that brings drought to
The lie of the land that you stand on.

She's not fat, she's not thin, she is perfect.
She is modest - she dresses discreetly -
But it's clear that her body is perfect.

Oh, Cabdi, you see her as I do -
The way that she sways as she walks is
The reason I call her Catiya,
Catiya, whose walk is a rhythm
That chimes with my heart when I see her.

In the evening, she brushes her hair from
The crown to the tip and the breeze lifts
Each strand, so the eyes of the young men
Follow the stroke and the windblown
Hair as it catches the last of
The sun as it sets and makes firebrands,
Black but shot through with the sunset.

The colour of Catiya's skin is
The colour that all women envy.
Her eyes, soft and brown, are the eyes of
The desert gazelle, while her nose is
Perfectly straight and her gums are
Black, black as charcoal. Oh, Cabdi,
The white of her teeth and the down on
Her cheek! Can you see how her waistline
Is curved like a spear; can you see how
Her arms make an elegant shape in
The air as she moves, how her calves flex,
How her neck, with its dapple of amber,
Lightly creases: the neck of a Houri.

There is nothing to fault in this woman,
Not a flaw to be found in her beauty.
She is never impatient or angry;
She never complains. Could you weary
Of a woman like that? She could never
Lie or be troublesome. No one
Ever spoke ill of this women:
Her soft speech, her quick mind, her modest
Way in the world - this young woman
Whose future, I know, will be brighter
By far than the star of the evening.

Oh, Cabdi, you see her as I do:
A child who is almost a woman,
In the very first flush of her beauty.
I praise her. I crown her with garlands.
Haadrawi, match my song with your song.

Maxamed Xaashi Dhamac 'Gaarriye'

[AyanTu]

Amazing poem, i wish Hadarawi's poems were translated.

[Minneapolis Mayor]

It does not make sense in english. Somalis translated into english sounds like portugueze. afsoomaligiisii mee?

is she clouds she clouds kulahaa. fock

[eyes-only]

The translated version doesn't sound as good as the original does it?.....

Ma cawaa ma caanaa
Ma ciirtaa ma calaf baa
Ma cuq baa ma cigashaa
Ma cisaa ma culuq baa
Ma daruur gu' curatoo
Cir caddaad an noqon baa
Ma cigaalka feleggiyo
Cirjiidkii mariiqaa
Ma magool cusayb baa
Ma cadceed arooryoo
Falaadhaha casuustaleh
Ku cabsiisay dheeggoo
Ceeryaantii didisaa
Ma xareed is celisaa
Ma habeen cadda ah oo
Balliyada cigaagani
Casuumeen xiddigahoo
Sida camal muraayad ah
Cirka dayaxi kaa jiray
Dhulka kaa cawaray baa
Cosob rayska xaadhiyo
Ma gargoorkii ceegoo
Calyayada barkaday baa

Alla sama cuddoonaa
Udugaa carfoonaa
Samsam caynka loo dhigay
Citibaaro badanaa
Calle ma aha liiti ah
Habac maaha ceebaleh
Qallef maaha camal ba'an
Coon maaha loo hoyan
Baali maaha caaryaleh
Cirir maaha toomama
Cawro maaha socod badan
Cayil maaha laga dido
Caatana u may bixin
Cid kastaba u geeyoo
Meel laga canaantiyo
Cillad loo ma heli karo
Cabdiyow tallaabada
Cutiyaan idhaahdaa
Timahay caweyskii
Cirifyada u saartee
Ku cayaara leydhee
Haldhaayaduna cawryaan
Indhaheeda cawsha ah
Mus cideedka midabka ah
Sanqadhoodhka caynaba
Timaheeda culayga ah
Ciridkeeda dhuxusha ah
Ilkahaa caddaanka ah
Camankeeda xaaddaleh
Dhexda caara dhuubta ah
Cududaha garaaraha
Kubabkay u culustahay
Cambarshaha sudhkeeday
Firirsheen cabbaaryadu
Waa Xuur al-Caynoo
Kolba anigu tin iyo cidhib
Cad aan quudho kuma arag
Cagfudayd u may dhalan
Cadho lagu ma sheegeyn
Waa canaadi lama odhan
Carrabkeedu beentiyo
Ma yaqaano caydaba
Wax ka cawda maan maqal
Ma cod dheera waa gabadh
Xishood baa u caado ah
Cimri waa u gaban weli
Caqli waa u waayeel
Cidhib baanay leedahay

Aniguna ma caasiyo
Cadraddii ammaan lehe
Carshigii jamaalkaan
U caleemo saaraye
Adna cadar Hadraawow
Hambalyada u soo curi

[AyanTu]

I think it's a great translation. The similies are creative.

[Minneapolis Mayor]

duqaan war badanaah. Qaldaankasto markuu mirqaamuu balaayo tiriyaah. waa in loo qayilo si lofahmo.

[peace-]

Now you depart, and though your way may lead
Through airless forests thick with hagar trees,
Places steeped in heat, stifling and dry,
Where breath comes hard, and no fresh breeze can reach—
Yet may God place a shield of coolest air
Between your body and the assailant sun.
And in a random scorching flame of wind
That parches the painful throat, and sears the flesh,
May God, in His compassion, let you find
The great-boughed tree that will protect and shade

Sayyid Mahamad A Hassan

[Warsan_Star_Muslimah]

This poem is good even in English, plus in Somali I would not be able to fully understand it

Haadrawi, match my song with your song. Thats a challenge, if I ever heard one.

If anyone has Haadrawi's translated poem in English POST it.



Peace; Cool poem

MM; Please take your rants somewhere else

Salaam

[eyes-only]

Has love been blood-written
(Hadraawi)

Has love been blood-written
has marrow yet
been poured for it
a person peeled
the skin from their back or ribs
has expression of this
been offered in flesh
cut from the cheeks
has blood been extracted
its colour still red
uncoagulated
been scooped from the arteries
poured into a milk vessel
have two people offered it
one to the other
as they would fresh milk
have they shared it happily

time-separated in spirit
in body as by a thorn fence
sworn to each other
one morning have two
after first soaking rain
the damp mist dense
in an unpeopled place
where apart from the trees
nothing stirred
become aware
of each other's rustle

did that true meeting
seem a vision to them
brought by love's plight
or its mirage
from time to time
as if suddenly waking
out of a dream
did their speech
desiring utterance
pass from a mouth
if just a howl

did words elude them
was the situation soured by this

did spots of ceaseless rain
emotion's tears
spill from their eyes
did it soak their clothes
did they sweat compassion

disoriented with but
a stutter of movement
they were stuck
each time a word
no link with others
lacking substance
limped out alone
was it ten days later
their tongue and palate
found strength for it

but they are born for success
of equal standing
parted for so long
did they greet one another
exchanging stories
did each for their part
pass on the trials
sustained through their love
did they read the message
exchange the news

love was a food store
which when it was heated
with charcoal and fire
the glowing embers
of emotions stirred
did they fill a large pot
time after time
drag the enclosure's
night-time gate
each one with tender eyes
seeing nothing harmed the other
did they listen thus
for a whole year

did the talking end
did they then spend
half a day
in this silent way
as the daylight fell
from their staring gaze
their inflamed thoughts
did they pass that night
like the camel herders
in nocturnal endurance
of cold and dark
difficulties bringing illness

did the dawn then glow
and the sun call out
approaching each other
not crossing the boundary
of mores and modesty
longing for a balm
with a mere forearm
between them did they stand
bodies held straight
opposite each other
avoiding the step
of moving closer
resisting the play-touch
the youthful way
the taste glimpsed
in the distance
did they just behold each other
through their eyes

they stood on the spot
each one gazing
standing upright
did it last a thousand nights

the legs of the termite
emerged from the earth
breaking the surface skin
did is peel their bodies
consume the flesh
did it wound the veins
pass to the nerves
persisting
to the very inside of the bone

the bad news
it places in you
that you look on with fear
is the trials and your death
did they welcome it
with their whole body and a smile

there's a flower which blooms
after morning's compassion
has refreshed it with dew
it brings forth a red liquid
for the mouth to sip
its stamen and stigma
entwine like a rope
was it this they exchanged
offering as a legacy
did they present it to taste
as the last earthly food of love
did they place at the other's ear
the word which was missing

the termite gathered up
sand and detritus
forming clay diligently
rendering and plastering
did it transform those two
did a building arise
did it mould from them
a structure of wonder
a lofty termite mound
famed for its thickness and strength

roaming in the sun-heat
of daytime did people
in the dry season grazing lands
rest in its shade
then move away in the evening
unaware of the reality
of the story that deep inside
this shady backbone support
two souls await the outcome of truth

if self sacrifice is not made
the breath of life not exchanged
if one does not wait
for an enduring legacy
the building of a house upright
children and earthly sustenance
then the kisses and intentions
are nothing but superficial
a poison sipped to satisfaction
in that one same moment
like hyenas snatching
a girl of good repute
as they hide themselves
in the higlo tree
to pounce out quickly
each man is expectant
for what will fall to him
a hyena and his grave hole
the honour he has trampled
the modesty he has snatched
the lying illusion
this does society harm

did he strive for the highest level
of fulfilment of love
that closest to honour
or is something still missing

[Cali_Gaab]

Peace, that poem of Hadrawi you posted "has love been blood written" was apparently inspired by Magool and a recent icident that she experienced.

She went to Sudan to perform and a Sudanese man fell in love with her. He wrote her a letter (love letter apparently) in red, only for her to discover it was written with blood, it's thought that the blood belonged to him.

The letter was written in Af-carabi so she asked hadraawi to translate it

[The_Emperior5]

fah post now the me doing shirib.

[Warsan_Star_Muslimah]

Eyes-only; That poem, C'est magnifique.

Cali; Would you do that? Write a love letter in your blood, for a person you loved? Would you say that is the highest pinnacle of love? I feel like a poet now.

Emperior; faan baadan, do you think your in the same calibre as Hadrawi and Gaarriye? Translate your Shirib in English, or tell Fah to do it for you.

Salaam

[The_Emperior5]

warsan i am really good with gabay i will post it bal sug gabay aan anigu qorray in af somali.