Xaqa suxufiga The Writer’s Rights

Xaqa suxufiga

Xaqa suxufigee lumay
Xabaalaha kan lagu guray
Xasuuqaan la dabarjaray
Xorriyaddaan la siinayn,
Xaashidey ku taallee
Ku xariiqantay sheeg?
 
Suxufiga in lagu xidho
Xabsiyada dambiilaha
Xabbad lagu dilaacshoo
Xuquuqdood la duudsiyo
Xaqdhawr aan la siinayn,
Xaashiday ku taallee
Ku xariiiqantay sheeg!
 
Xaqdarradan dillaacdee
Xamastiyo carruuraha
Lagu xiiray maatada
Xaawaleey la dabarjaray
Xamar haw darnaatee
Haddii ay xog sheegeen,
Maxaa loo xasuuqoo,
Tolow loo xidhxidhayaa?
 
Ninka xadhigga miiqee
Xumaatada ku noolee
Xasillooni diid iyo
Tuuggaa wax xadayee,
Xabbadaha ridaayow!
Xisaab baa ku daba taal.
 
Waxba yaanan xiiqinoo
Ku xabeebsan hadalkee
Soomaalaan xurmeeyn iyo
Xushmad ruuxna siinoo
Xabaalaha ku faantoo
Xooggeeda aastoo
Xinjiraa ka dhuratoo
Xuurteeysa geesiga.
 
Xeerka dunida kuwa qoray
Sida ay xaqiijeen
Saddex baan xumaan geyin:
 
Suxufigu xor weeyaan
Xaqay noo iftiinshaan
Nabadday xasiliyaan
Xaasidkay la diriraan.
 
Markay xaajo dhabaqdee
Xarbi laysku qaadee
Rasaas xaami dhacayso
Xiinka roob la moodaa,
Xag kastaba ka yeedhee,
Meydku uu xad-dhaafee
Xisaab beelo dhaawacu
Naftu xanaf wareertee
Xusulduubto orodkee
Xammil joogi waydana,
Suxufigays ku xooroo
Xayndaabka jiidhoo
Warka soo xaqiijoo
Xuduud malaha celisoo
Xadku waa u furanyahay
Ma geyaan xumaatoo,
Suxufigu xor weeyaan.
 
Afartaa nin xiisoo
Ku xadreeyey jiifkoo
Xuskiisii kursigu galay,
Isagoo xilkii sida
Xiddigana ku taxan yiin
Ku riyooday xalay baa
Markuu waagii xaytamay
Xawaarii ka toosoo
Xaadhxaadhay boodhkii.
 
Marka ay xantiisiyo
Xam-xamtiisa heegaan,
Waa xeedho madhan oo
Ka xaalufa wanaaggoo
Xaajo kale ma keenee,
Inta uu xanaaqoo
Xawlalladu kacaan buu
Xannibaa wargeysyada.
 
Fannaan xiiso badanoo
Xarakeeya luuqdoo
Ku xeeldheer garaacoo
Xilli kasta diyaaroo
Xubbigiyo kalgacalkiyo
Xasuustii fogaatiyo
Xoorkii idiin shuba.
 
Marka ay xannibantee
Taladu ay xayirantee
Xagaldaaca keentana
Fannaankaa u xaytoo
Ka dillaacsha xuubkoo
Xantoobsada dhibaatada
Oo ma geyaan xumaatada.
 
Xilkas weeye gaaroo
Xigmad Eebbe siiyoo
Murti Xaakim barayoo
Waa xeelad gaaroo
Xidid weeye hoosoo
Xananaaya ciiddoo
La xarbiya gumeystaha;
Marna xabagbarsheed iyo
Xareed roobku shubay iyo
Xayskiyo gugii iyo
Dayrtoo xab bururtoo
Xooluhu dhaleenoo
Xasillooni nabad iyo
Xamdi Eebbe lagu jiro.
 
Waxa xaraf ku muujee
Taariikh ku xaydee
Ku xardhaaya suugaan
Xashaa lillaahiye,
Xeerbeegti weeyoo,
Abwaankaan xumaan geyin.
 
London, 2008
 

The Writer’s Rights

Journalists were discarded;
rights thrown in unmarked graves.
Men massacred; erased.
The press stripped of freedom.
Where is it officially written?
Where's the act or legislation?
 
Journalists were jailed,
crammed in cells with criminals,
or brought down in bullets,
their humanity denied.
There was no respect.
Where is it officially written?
Where's the act or legislation?
 
Injustice is infectious,
your children are not safe,
your elders are not safe,
they will wipe out your women.
Mogadishu is worst.
If journalists wrote of wrongs
why they were slaughtered?
My kinsmen, why the arrests?
 
The warlord's rope's a trap to trip
the public - to obstruct,
opposing peace, and hey you, thief!
Raiding our riches,
opening fire on our people.
You'll be called to account!
 
Let me pause - I pant.
I get hoarse, reciting this poem.
There's no honour in Somalia -
where's modesty or manners?
They just brag of bodies, burials,
dismiss and devalue unity,
make victims of their citizens
until smartness and strength drain out...
 
Listen: it's an international law -
there are three types of people
it's forbidden to harm or hurt -
 
Firstly, when hell breaks
and people fall to fighting,  
bullets crisscrossing from cartridges,
whistling like a type of rain
that comes from every corner,
too many corpses to count
and numbers stumbling wounded
and life is disgusting,
you could flee, be free,
escape what you can't endure,
but journalists go towards it
through gunshot, barbed-wire,
they report the true news.
They have no borders.
You're forbidden to harm them.
Journalists must be free.
 
The wannabe dictator, ravenous
for absolutes, gorging on power,
on higher positions,
dedicates himself to leadership -
three stars, a general's rank.
Dreaming of this command
when the dawn breaks
he wakes galloping, feral,
slapping dust from his flesh.
 
But gossip becomes allegation,
and when journalists look closer
this man shows no perception,
no moral resolution,
and lacking a solution,
begins to get a temper -
spleen swelling veins.
He shuts the newspapers down.
 
Secondly, don't hurt the artist
who writes musical notation,
who knows how to play
any instrument in reach -
always singing songs of love
In the genre's great tradition
to slake your hunger.
 
Thirdly, when life's muddied
and nothing can drag it out
and things fall to chaos,
it's the poet who's needed,
unpeeling, peering,
taking matters on their shoulders.
You mustn't crush them either.
 
At times, they bear responsibility -
their talent comes from God.
Allah gives craft and creativity -
unusual, natural ability,
deep-rooted knowledge that's grown
from far down in the soil
and fights colonisation.
Other times, they're honeycomb,
or rain splashing from clouds,
drops that fall in Spring,
or Autumn's breaking waters
as farm animals give birth
during peace and harvest,
and people, thank Allah, prosper.
 
Those who use words well
must take history's point
to ink a beautiful literature.
Honestly, I swear:
you can't harm the journalist or singer,
you must never harm the poet.
 

The Rights of the Journalist

The rights and duties of journalists were discarded
And thrown it into a grave,
They were killed on a large scale and eradicated
Not given their freedom of independent press without hindrance,
Could one tell where it is officially written?
And in which act or legislation it has been enshrined?
 
Journalists were jailed
Put into the criminal prisons
Also were shot down
And their rights were denied
And were not given any respect,
Could one tell where it is officially written?
And in which act or legislation it has been enshrined?
 
Injustice is everywhere and widespread
Not safeguarding the vulnerable and children
As well as the dependents
And women eradicated as well
Mogadishu been the worse,
If the journalists reported the injustices occurring
Why they were exterminated?
Hey, you kinsmen! Why the journalists were arrested?
 
The man who is twining the tricky rope and fooling the public
Living in a mischievous way
Opposing the quality of being tranquil;
And hey, you the thief! You're stealing the country's treasury
Firing the bullets and shooting the people
You will be liable to account for your actions.
 
Let me prevent myself to pant and breathe with difficulty
And get hoarseness while reciting the poem,
Somalis don't treat anyone with honour and respect
Neither do they give modesty and good manners
They show with excessive pride and self satisfaction about death and the
       graves
Regard their strength and unity as being of little worth
Victimize and exploit the citizens
Drain compatriots of their physical and mental capabilities.
 
The signatories of the international law
As they have verified it,
Three people are forbidden to be harmed or treated cruelly:
 
When there's an occurrence of disturbance and disorderly outburst
And people start fighting
Hot bullets fired from cartridge crisscrossing
Making a whistling noise like a rain
Coming from every corner,
The corpses too numerous to be counted
Plus countless wounded people as well
And the quality of life being unpleasant
One could escape free from the situation
Because couldn't bear the distress,
But in this instance it's the journalist who boldly goes into the line of fire
Crosses the fences
And reports the unbiased news,
S/he is a reporter without borders
It's forbidden to be harmed or treated cruelly
S/he is an independent journalist.
 
The man craving for absolute dictatorship
Living a life of devotion to hanging to power
Feasting with the higher position of office,
Dedicated himself to being a leader
With three stars general officer rank,
Dreaming all these responsibilities last night,
When the dawn broke
He waked up galloping in a seemingly uncontrollable manner
Beat thoroughly the dust from his body by wiping it.
 
But when gossip surfaces reporting lapses in his leadership performance
And journalists start digging deep into allegations of misconduct and mal-
       administration
He shows a low level of intelligence
Has no virtue and moral excellence
And lacks way-out alternative solutions to the crisis,
 
As he starts to show irritability and temper outburst
With anger and swelling jugular veins
Then he starts to shut down the newspapers.
 
Second it is the very fascinating artist,
Who diacritically mark and insert vowel signs correctly
Has profound knowledge of playing musical instruments
Easily available within reach at anytime
Willing to sing love songs
The long-established traditional genre of music
In order to appease your hunger.
 
Third, when things are bogged down
And no progress can be made to break the deadlock
And the situation is falling apart in a chaotic and disorderly way,
It's the poet who rolls his sleeves up
Start peeling the layers of difficult and ask the right questions
And takes up the matter onto his/her shoulder
So it's forbidden to be harmed or treated cruelly.
 
At times, s/he's very special responsible person
Has exceptional talent from God
Allah has given him/her creativity and cultural skills
It's an unusual natural ability
It's a deep-rooted and firmly planted knowledge
That goes far down the soil
And fights against the colonialists;
Other times, s/he's xabagbarsheed [particular kind of honeycomb]
Rainwater that fall as precipitation from clouds
And rain that fall during the Gu' [Spring] season
Or s/he's like the Dayr [Autumn] burst with full of amniotic fluid
Where majority of the domestic animals have given birth
Where there's peace and stability
And the people, thanks to Allah, are prosperous.
 
The person who expresses things in words
Uses as a point of history from which it can develop
And can carve very beautiful literature
Honestly, it's not possible
The legal and the cultural expert and the singer
And the poet to be harmed or treated cruelly.
 
London, 2008
 

Original Poem by

Asha Lul Mohamud Yusuf

Translated by

Maxamed Xasan ‘Alto’ with Clare Pollard Language

Somali

Country

Somalia/Somaliland