A Shout

Dha’da gabayga wataanan tirin, dhowr guyoo tegeye
Dhaantadiyo waa taanan tumin, dheeshi maansada’e
Dhoolkii murtida waanigaan, dhab ugu luuqeeyne
Soomaali ruux dhiig u galay, dhawrsan kari waaye
Anuun baa dhalaallaye malaa, dhuganba maysaane.
Maantana dhawaaq baa bixiyo, dhiillo aan damine
Dhakhaatiirti wada laaye iyo, dhidibki Soomaale
Dhuuxii Caddow bay shubeen, waqay dhantaalmaane
Qamar oo madhaafanna bay, luxudka dhiibsheene
Dhallintii la sugayay mar qudha, dhaadka jebiyeene
Dhirtu waa u oydoo cirkuna, dhibic u soo daaye,
Bal maxay ka dheefeen kuwaa, cunay dhallaankooda?
Dheeldheel ninkiii moodayow, dhamacday Soomaali
Dhaawac baa ka taahaya oo, dhaymo lala waaye
Maydkaa dhalfiifaha noqdoon, cidina dhaadayne
Ubbada kii dhanqalan weeye oo, dhaygag baa dilaye
Dumarkii dhafoorkay hayaan, dhama’ daraaddiiye
Dhag hurdada u lediwaa qofkii, dheegtey waayaha
Dhankii aad ka eegtaba qalbigu, waa is dhimayaaye
Qaxootiga kan dhunyaalay baa, dhibay naftaydiiye
Kuwa doonta lagu dhoofiyee, lagu dhammeeynaayo
Ee badweyn ku dhimanaaya baa, dhibay naftaydiiye
Dhaqankeennan baabba’ay ayaa, dhibay naftaydiiye
Diintaa la dhalandhooliyaa, dhibay naftaydiiye.
Xamareey dhibkaagay damqoo, waan dhutinayaaye
Xamareey raggii kuu dhashaa, dhuunta kuu galaye
Xamareey dhurwaa baa ku heley, aan dhergi aqoone
Xamareey nin dhaar kuu galaan, kuu dhammeeyn weliye
Xamareey dhunkaal qooshan bay, kugu dhex daadsheene
Xamareey nin aan kuu dhigayn, baa ku dhaansadaye
Xamareey raggii dhaadhacyoo, dhuuryay baa hadhaye
Dhoongay iyo nacas baa fadhiya, dhamastii weyneyde
Dhira-dhabato kaa beere iyo, geed dhilowyahane.
Dharaartii Ilaah keeno iyo, waaga dhaladkiisa
Dhugta qoriga kaaraha dhiciyo, jiibka dhabanaaya
Dhinbiilaha qarxaayiyo madfaca, dhamacda tuuraaya
Suugaa dhacaayiyo waxaa, dhuumo laba qaacay
Hub gumeyste soo dhiibay baa, laysla dhacayaaye
Dhallaanka iyo maatida ayaa, lagu dhammeeyaaye
Dhabandaadna garanwaa inuu, taa ka dhiidhiyo’e
Doqon baa dhabbada sii hayoo, dhawda muu garane
Dhugdhugtuba raggeer uma dhacsana, jeer la soo dhigo’e.
Waxba gabaygu yuu ila dhacmine, wayska dhigayaaye
Waxa aan u sii dhaadhacaa, waa dhegxumo uune
Dhidarkii xabaalaha qotaan, noqon dhiggiisiiye
Dheef lagama quustee dadkii, waa dhursugayaaye
Duco dhaaban baan marinayaa, dhaha bal aammiinta!
Allahayow halyey dhiirran oo, dhaarta fulinaaya
Oo Dhammays lisaayoo nirgaha, aan ka dhadhinaynnin
Dhiilka iyo gaawaha midkii, dhayda uga buuxsha
Oo nabaddu waa dheemanee, Dheeha uga maala;
Dhulku wuu ilmeeyee midkii, dhab ugu soo hiisha
Dhagaxa iyo ciiddana mid aan, cadow u soo dhaafin
Dhadhamiyo midaan lagu sabayn, dheriga loo buuxsha
Fule dhababaceeyaa helee, kii u dhimanaaya
Dhaxan baa idlaysee midkii, dhacan ku awdaaya
Dabayshaa dhurbaxays iyo, dhedada hooraysa
Mid dhismo adkeeynaya oo, seeska dhababaaya,
Rabbiyow mid calanka u dhisaan, kaa dhursugayaaye.
 
London, 2009
 

A Shout

Many springs have passed, I haven’t recited in ‘dh’
or played poetry’s music, or found it entertaining,
or listened to that wisdom, once chanted to its melody.
If you have Somali blood, this situation’s hard to endure.
This is how I’ve I suffered, unnoticed by others.
But today there’s an unbearable noise; catastrophe’s cacophony.
Doctors have been massacred, the cream of Somalis.
Damn those who shed the blood, who spilt Caddow’s marrow,
who callously killed Qamar, dear to us all,
who have broken these young ones, backbone of our nation.
The tears overflow, the trees and sky are weeping.
Killers of children, what have you gained?
This is not a simple incident, it sets Somalis aflame.
Heavy are the groans, the hurt cannot be healed.
The corpses are scattered, the dead neglected,
littles ones left there, gazing aghast,
women are lost, adrift in deep anguish.
If you saw the scene, you’d be sleepless for nights.
Wherever you look, the heart flees in agony.
Like ongoing migration, this burdens my mind.
How the boats take bodies, to perilous ends,
to die in high sea – I constantly worry.
What has become of us? Perpetual anxiety.
They scorn our religion. They shatter my mind.
O Mogadishu, I’m weak with your suffering.
O Mogadishu, I’m blaming your boys.
O Mogadishu, hyenas attack who don’t know satiety,
O Mogadishu, your defenders failed you,
O Mogadishu, they scattered poisonous gum,
O Mogadishu, you are vandalised,
O Mogadishu, your heroes are gone.
Thugs and incompetents gather under the wisdom tree
and no plants are left, only useless dhira-dhabato.
Every day, from morning until night
we hear guns roar, the din of armoured cars,
the flash of ammunitions, lighting up the distance,
smoke pouring, loosed from double-barrelled guns,
weapons detonate, sent by colonial powers,
killing the young certainly, killing the vulnerable,
and the leaders we elected, they don’t seem angry,
more unwitting fools, unaware of reality.
Events seem trivial to some, until they actually hit home.
Let me stop, before I’m carried too far away.
I shouldn’t go any further, describing such horror
or I’ll sound like a hyena, scavenging in graveyards.
In this life, they say you should never give up.
I beg you then, I’ll pray and you say amen.
May Allah send us a man of courage, of truth,
who treats us equally, shares the milk fairly,
makes sure everyone gets some, their bowl full,
makes us understand peace, which is beyond price,
makes the scorched land recover, green over,
makes strong fences, to keep out the enemy,
who never falls for money, or material goods,
who isn’t craven, but would die for what he believes in,
who provides warm clothes, helps those shivering in cold,
through howling winds, through falling drizzle,
who lays strong foundations, so we can move forward,
who keeps the flag aloft, Allah we beseech you...
 
London, 2009
 

Original Poem by

Asha Lul Mohamud Yusuf

Translated by

Said Jama Hussein, Maxamed Xasan ‘Alto’ with Clare Pollard Language

Somali

Country

Somalia/Somaliland