I see nine colours,
Next I see eight names,
I hear thirty different speeches,
Eighteen different views formed
And thirteen different faces
Dark and gloomily pessimistic
Rooming aimlessly around
And strangers I was looking over carefully.
Is this thing politics?
It’s resembling with subxaanyo [non-poisonous snake];
It’s all that continuously in progress
Chooses to move to the tip and bottom
It’s dividing the people
It’s instigating great unrest among the people,
All the places or particular points it passes
It inflates an excessive amount of poison.
It expresses its dissatisfaction with the moral excellence
The quality of being good always annoys it
It helps the evil deeds
Befriending the lies
Befitting its activities with clannish loyalty
Taking swindler along as a companion
It confides in and has faith with deceptionist
It shows the way the consistent failure and loser,
So to benefit from the situation.
It turns away from the inspirer leader
It corrupts the law and order
It excludes the justice intentionally
It’s like grain weevil that can cause significant damage to fair judgement
It’s a disease to equality,
In order injustice get the position of advantage and control
It helps pave the way for ascending and advancing the ladder,
It’s made up of partiality and prejudice.
There are two kinds of politics;
But the Somalis one
It’s ill-omened in the first place.
The people who all have been nice and righteous
Just because of the reason of ibleys
It suddenly struck and splashed with evil spirit;
When violent killing and bloodletting happens
It’s an opportunity and sufficiently valuable thing for her,
When the people form two opposing lines of fighting
It gets eliminating one another
And throat-cutting happens,
And when many people and their souls ascertained apart,
Just in every hour!”
It acquires the shares of the innocents
It sells the people’s provisions
Then speaks on their behalf
Depositing large amounts of cash into its banks,
Anything relating with swords and guns
Anything relating with conventional armaments
It easily buys for the people,
How to stop it?
That’s the aim.
There are two kinds of politics;
But the Somalis one
It’s ill-omened n the first place.
It’s very hostile to any person who is patient
Able to wait without becoming annoyed,
The person who hates thoughtlessness
It hires loyal subjects for him
And uses the practice of coercion.
It spreads trick chains
It puts trap and noose,
If the person is not caught in the narrow passage
Doesn’t like deception,
And is clean from wickedness
Ascetic from ibleys’ superstition,
That person could be save and secure,
It’s said: “Swindler can not prosper”.
There are two kinds of politics;
But the Somalis one
It’s ill-omened in the first place.
It produces magic and sorcery
It produces epilepsy and illness
It produces poison and wounds
It produces sharp point razor blades
It produces knives making a wounding remark,
It produces one who wants to have an excessive desire more than his
allotment
And carries leather milk-vessels for himself,
It produces one suffering from alcoholism
It produces unhealthy young children
It produces highly contagious viral infection
It produces powdery particles and crimes
It produces internal disaster and distress
It produces external carnivores
It produces terror and extreme danger,
It causes the people grave illness and agony
It disguises people’s identity and origin,
It puts an end to the existence of brother-in-laws and maternal uncles,
It puts an end to the existence of close relatives and related individuals,
It puts an end to the existence of friends and acquaintances.
Anyone supposed to have a knowledge in politics;
If we would cut his stomach
Or slice it in a thinly strips
And try to see what he has inside,
The people who are near the zone
Would have fainted and lost consciousness.
Anyone who enters its boundary;
One conceals the evidence of wrong-doing
And pushes persistently for euphemism,
His erratic and unpredictable behaviour
He uses as a point from which
His view point is the correct one.
He refuses questions,
Not waiting what you want to say to him
At the same time within two seconds
He will say to you
Something you can’t believe.
As a mentally deranged person
He is on the high edge of a cliff,
Somewhat strangely gazing the people
Giving different signals
Throwing hands up and down
Making rough measurements,
He prophesies and predicts
The things that has been dictated to him by an anonymous person.
What kind of pictures to show
What kind of false signatures to accept
What kind of statements to write,
All those people who are hung up in all sorts of ways
It is because of the reason of their politics
At the same time they think it’s normal.
Sincerity will be rescued,
Anyone who have a narrow escape will be safe,
Anyone who is able to be patient will get his allotment,
Deceptionist will lose,
It’s said: “Swindler can not prosper”.