Qof Baad Tahay Ii Dhawaa - Extract You are someone once close to me

Qof Baad Tahay Ii Dhawaa - Extract

Waqtigu noomaba qoslee
Hadduu qaddar baasi jiro
Heblaay labadeenan qaar
Dusheenna maxaa ku qubay
Miyaan dadku qaybsan jirin.
 
Sidii galab qaansoroob
Ilayskii labada qaar
Badweyn ku qotomisay kaah
Hirkuna qooraansigii
Jalleeco qabaw lahayd
Aniga igu soo qubeen
Qof baad tahay ii dhawaa
 
Ayaamahan wada qalalan
Qodxaha waayaha ku baxay
Waxay qalayaan jidhkee
Muxuu qalbiyada is-jecel
U kala qaadaa waqtigu?!
 

You are someone once close to me

Time has no smile for us
If bad qaddar exists
Oh girl, why has it all poured down
On us two halves
Didn’t people once share it.
 
Like an afternoon rainbow
Its light at both ends
That sunlight plants in the ocean
Waves craning to stare
Their cooling glance
Pouring over me
You are someone once close to me!
 
These days are all dry
The thorns they have sprouted
Are shredding my flesh
Why are hearts that love each other
Taken apart by time?
 

You are someone once close to me

Time does not smile upon us.
If bad fate exists,
Why, oh girl, has it been poured
Solely on the both of us?
Was it not something once divided among people?
 
Like a rainbow in the afternoon,
Its light on both end
Illuminating the sea,
The waves craning their necks to stare With a cool sideways glance
Pouring over me.
You were someone once close to me
 
These dry days,
The thorns that time sprouted,
Are now cutting my skin.
 

The following extract was translated at PTC workshop as part of the Off the Shelf Festival of Words. Working with Ibrahim Hirsi as guest translator was insightful to see how the language and culture of Somali poetry is also viewed and discussed by members of the diaspora. The extract we translated was the last three stanzas of Cali Ileeye’s ‘You are someone once close to me’ where the speaker mourns the loss of love or an unfulfilled love. Cali’s poetry utilises whilst also challenging traditional, oral forms of classic Somali poetry. For example, the alliteration of this poem binds the lines together where each line has a word beginning with ‘q’ in the original. However, Cali utilises the same words numerous times which is uncommon. The word ‘qaddar’ (or often transliterated from Arabic as Qadr) in the second line drove a lot of conversation and learning amongst the group members. The word can be directly translated to English as fate. However, it is a word used in the Qur’an to describe the fate that is already written by God before one is born. It is almost viewed as a written contract that we Muslims submit ourselves to. Therefore, due to its religious and theological significance in Islam and in Somali culture, the group decided to use the word in its original. This led the conversation throughout the translation workshop towards how much of the speaker is or isn’t engaging with theological conversation, asking the question ‘If bad qaddar exists…’. The framing of this question implies a subversion. A further subversion is found in Cali’s limited use of punctuation. Whilst translating, we found many instances where we, the English/English speaking reader, would place a comma or a full stop. We decided to keep the punctuation the same to keep the questions and sentiments ambiguous in how they start and end – bar the interrobang which applies a sense of shock in English that isn’t in the Somali. Overall, the unique images that Cali employs are incredibly powerful allowing nature and violence to hold onto each other. It wasn’t until the completion of the final line that the group recognised the extract begins and ends with the word ‘time’ or ‘waqtigu’. It appears the speaker expresses that his experience of time is natural, even divine, yet still violent.

Mymona Bibi, Poet-facilitator

Original Poem by

Cali Ileeye

Translated by

Ibrahim Hirsi with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Somali

Country

Somalia/Somaliland