Daabaqad The Mark

Daabaqad

Dabuub gabay baryahan maanaan tirin da’ayo waw geede
Duugi maanso waan jooji iyo dulucdii suugaan e
Ma dareersho geeraara daan daadahayn jiray
Qofsee dirkiisu soomaali yahay waa damqanayaaye
Ciil buu la daaduumay oo wuu dardhanayaaye
Naftaa igu dirqiyeysee ma rabin dib uga faaloode
 
Da’da gumayste diidaya buu daawo geliyaaye
In tuuse dawdar talinayo iyo doqonka sii liitaa
Dux u yeelan maayaan idhee daba hadalkooda
Mar hadday durbaanka u tunteen dabaqa hooseysa
Dugaagba dhammaan idhee daaba hadalkooda
Iyagaa iswada dooxay ee daaba hadal kooda.
 
Daabaqad nin lagu jiiday oo doolar lagu iibshay
Oo ramuud dalabayaa hadhee daaba hadalkooda
Kuwo darajo beeniyo la sudhay duubka madax wayn
Misna digo shidayaa hadhee daaba hadalkooda
 
Dareen kaa i farayee ma rabin inaan ku daalaye
Duul hore u lumay baan intaa doon i leeyahaye
Dib waxan u dhaca ahayn ayay doon i leeyahaye
Damal aan hore u wayay bay doon i leeyahaye
Geesi iilka lagu duugay bay doon i leeyahye
Kuwo doon la wada caariday doon i leeyahye
Qaxootiga dabayl raacay bay dooni leeyahye.
 
Deebaaq qof loo qooshay oo dacar la leefsiiyey
Oo dakhar walaalkii ku dhigay doogo la kici waaye
Dabaa laga hulaaqa dalkii dogobyo waaweyne
Inuu dego raga baw diidan oo diirad baw xidhane
Dahramaad ayaa lagu baxshaa sudumi laaye.
 
Afartaa daryaankii dhiciyo degel madoobaaday
Du-baabad qarxiyo kaarihii laysku dabar gooyey
Miinada la wada daadiyeen dayrka lal raacay
Madaafiicda daran doori gee laysu diran-aayo
Nin da’adkisi babbiyey oon dan kallahayn dheeh.
 
Dugsi baysu noqon layd hadday garto dawgeede
Soomaali yeey dabar go baad dacalka haysaaye
Dawr baad u tu mataane colaad laga ducaystaaye
Dirir iyo cadaawaa isu galay duqay tidaadiiye
Maalinba da’adow curata ba dalam la siiyeye
Doorkii u kaca yaa mindida lagu dilaacshaye
Dumarkiyo carruurtaa rasaas lala dul joogaaye
Sii roob dayoo kalaa lagu dul hoorshaa
 
Kii daban ka kuu dhigay ayaad xumo u diidaye
Docda hore intuu kuu galaad danba basaysaane
Duli inaad u gacan taakateen wada la hubaye
Diiwaan madow baad gashoon cidi kadoodayne
Dunjise wada dhash-uun baa tihiin ulliyo diirkeede
Dabka baxaya duufaan kacay diririg taa taagan
Damiyoo dabool sara oo inaga duuduba
Dermo dhiga ducana raaciyo nabada doon dona
Odayaal dawayn iyo u dira culimo diineedka
Idinkoo dirays kiina xidhan labada daamoodba
Darka fura wanaga u degdega daalyey shacbkiiye.
 
Waxba yaanan nabarkii dednaa diririn qoloftisa
Waxii aan la doontaba waa iga darayaan
balaan soo dabaaloo ducada daayin ila tugno
Alahyow digtoor daacad oo dirac kaa tuugnay
Ku danyso mooyee allow dajiye kaa tuugnay
Alahyow wadani diiran dayiba kaa tuugnay
Allahayow daruraha daiyo roobku wada deeqo
Dayrtiyo gu’ga ba noo shuboo doogu wada beermo
Dahrigana mallow jiifsatee daadku naga maydho.
 

The Mark

For a while I haven’t alliterated from ‘A’ to ‘Z’.
I’ve neglected all those meaningful old poems,
even those I used to recite so beautifully.
Yet, being a Somali, my feelings are aroused now,
I am filling up with anger and loss.
Something inside me urges: stop this silence, speak up.
My poems encourage the anti-colonials,
but, alas, the hopeless are at the helm of power.
I thought they wouldn’t heed my words, so why write them?
I saw them beating their drums for the worthless,
lower than animals, and thought: why worry?
They cause their own pain; so why bother?
If a person so cheaply won, brainwashed
and remotely controlled is all that is left, what’s the point?
Some are decorated with the highest titles and ranks
but feeding the flames of hatred is all that they do.
I wouldn’t choose this, but duty compels me
to seek out and recover our long lost dear ones,
to replace this backwardness with something lasting,
to find the long uprooted gathering tree,
and keep remembering heroes buried in the earth,
and those who have lost their lives in shipwrecks,
and the reckless refugees riding the wild seas.
 
A person made to taste bitterness,
wounded by his brothers, barely recovers.
A great fire is sparked in the forests of my country
and the plan is for it to stay ablaze.
Men have paid a lot of money to ensure it burns unabated.
This is an account of dangers, their devastating effects,
the use of tanks and armoured cars for destruction,
mines scattered all over the land,
howling guns ordered to come from all sides –
all to the disgrace of those who don’t care
the least for their people.
You leaders would live peacefully if you knew your duty,
but you seem to have chosen a path to your undoing.
You keep promoting war instead of shunning it,
your elders are bent on fanning enmity and hatred,
the upcoming generation is the biggest victim,
the aspirations of youth are the first things slain,
women and children always under threat of gunfire,
like falling rain, it showers down over them,
yet you defend those behind this machination.
You absolve them from villainous deeds,
which means you acquiesce in these miserable affairs.
You have registered your name in history’s blackest pages.
The irony is that by birth and race these are your brothers
in flaming fire, rising tide, roaring wind.
Couldn’t you end this, acting together?
Be reconciled, worship and work for peace,
engage your elders and clergy in the mission,
come together from feuding sides, dressed in your best,
open to harmony between people, so sick and tired.
 
I don’t want to scratch at raw wounds.
Maybe continuing in this vein won’t heal anything.
I’ll finish, and ask you to join me in prayer
for a gallant, honest leader
who stands against exploitation, for our protection,
steeped in patriotism, steeped in goodness.
May God send us clouds full of rain
to fall in spring and winter and make the land green,
and cleanse our souls of ill-feeling.
 

The Mark

For a while now I haven’t recited my poetry of the ‘D’ or ‘W’
Old poems with their verses and meanings I have left
Even those I used to recite so beautifully
Yet, being a Somali my feelings are aroused 
I am filled with anger and great loss
An inner force obliges me to leave the silence and speak up
 
My poems imbue the anti-colonials with zest
But, alas, while the hopeless is at the helm of power
I thought none would heed my words; rather leave them out
Also seeing them beating drums for the worthless
I conjured animals are by far better; so not to worry about them
They are the real cause of their pain; so why bother
 
A person so cheaply won and accordingly marked
And remotely controlled is all that is left; so why the worry
Some decorated with false titles of the highest ranks 
Yet, flaming the passion for hatred are all that remain so far
 
It is not my choice; but I am compelled by sense of duty
To seek and recover some long lost dear ones
To replace this backwardness with something durable in value
To recover the cherished gathering tree long uprooted
And keep remembering heroes long buried in the grave
And those who have lost their lives in shipwreck 
As well as the reckless refugees riding the wild seas
 
A person who has been made to taste the bitterness of the aloe tree
And suffers wound caused by his brothers hardly recovers
A great fire is set in the forests of the country
And to ensure it remains ablaze has been planned by men
Who pay a lot of money that it continues unabated
 
This is an account of the perils and their devastating effects
The use of tanks and armoured cars for destruction
The mines scattered all over the land
The roaring guns coming from all sides by orders
Are all to the disgrace of those who care not 
The least for his own people
 
You would have lived in peace had you known your duty
You have surely chosen the path of your doom
You keep calling for war instead of shunning it
Your elders are bent on fanning enmity and hatred
The upcoming generation is the biggest victim
The aspiring youth are the first slain by the sword
The women and children are under constant threat of fire exchange
Like falling rain weapons come down showering over them
Yet, you come to the defence of those behind the machination
 
You are absolving them from their villainous deeds
Which means you’re submissive to your miserable affairs
You have registered yourself in the bad books of history
Ironically, you share the same brotherhood by birth and race
The flaming fire, the rising tide, the roaring wind
Why don’t you, acting together, put an end to them
Get reconciled, pray together, and work for peace
Engage your elders and clergymen in the mission
Come together from both feuding sides dressed in your best attire
Open all venues of amity; the people who are so sick and tired
 
Let me not look like scratching the wounds unhealed yet
For continuing on the same vein will only aggravate matters
So, in conclusion, may I ask you to join me in beseeching God
To bless us with a gallant and honest leader
One against exploitation and for our protection
One steeped in patriotism and goodness for his people
May God also send us clouds full of rain
 That falls in spring and winter too making the land evergreen,
And purifying our souls of all ill feelings.
 

Original Poem by

Asha Lul Mohamud Yusuf

Translated by

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

Somali

Country

Somalia/Somaliland