| The Somaliland Times | |||||||
| ISSUE 40 October 26, 2002 |
Maxamed Ibraahim Warsame 'Hadraawi' |
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FRONT PAGE
Controversy Surrounds NDC/GTZ Demobilizing Project Promotion of Economic Recovery Project by ILO Launched Warring Somalia Factions Move to Restore Peace
Omer Arteh Ghalib To Run For President
Continued from the previous
issue:
Notes on Mr. Omer Arteh Ghalib
Reintegration Should Be For All Stratfor Strategic Forecasting |
Continued from the
previous issue Somali Translated by Martin Orwin ( Modern Poetry in Translation, New Series, No.17, 2001 ) Hadraawi is considered by many to be the greatest living Somali poet. Born in northern Somalia (the present self-declared Republic of Somaliland) in 1943, he was educated in Aden and went on to a career in teaching in the early 1970's. At this time he began to become well known for his poetry and plays. Aside from the love lyrics (one of which is the poem translated here), he was a powerful commentator on the political situation and critic of the then military regime in Somalia. Imprisoned between 1973 and 1978, he was again in public life as director of the arts section of the Academy of Science, Arts and Literature from 1978 to 1982, when he joined the opposition Somali National Movement based in Ethiopia. He was a very powerful voice in the ensuing years of civil war and the repressive military regime, and continues to be a very important poet commenting on the predicament the Somalis face. The poem translated here, which became very popular in the early 1970s, was composed in response to an incident which made an impression on the poet. Some time in the early 1970s a famous Somali woman singer called Magool visited Sudan to give some concerts. At one of these a Sudanese man fell in love with her and wrote a letter in Arabic which she received after returning to Somalia. Not knowing Arabic, she passed it to Hadraawi to translate. He was at first surprised to see the letter written in what seemed to be red ink, and as he read on an explanation made itself known. The man had extracted some of his own blood to write the letter and from this Hadraawi's poem sprang. The poem is of a type known as hees, a modern sung form with musical accompaniment (see general introduction), and is composed in a metre from another poetic genre known as jiifto, a metre commonly used for such hees. It was made particularly famous through performances sung by Magool herself. The poem speaks for itself in a way understandable to a non-Somai audience and is composed in a series of negative questions which have largely been retained in the translation. Has love been blood-written (Jacayl Dhiig ma lagu Qoray) Has love been blood-written has marrow yet been poured for it a person peeled the skin from their back or ribs has expression of this been offered in flesh cut from the cheeks has blood been extracted its colour still red uncoagulated been scooped from the arteries poured into a milk vessel have two people offered it one to the other as they would fresh milk have they shared it happily time-separated in spirit in body as by a thorn fence sworn to each other one morning have two after first soaking rain the damp mist dense in an unpeopled place where apart from the trees nothing stirred become aware of each other's rustle did that true meeting seem a vision to them brought by love's plight or its mirage from time to time as if suddenly waking out of a dream did their speech desiring utterance pass from a mouth if just a howl did words elude them was the situation soured by this did spots of ceaseless rain emotion's tears spill from their eyes did it soak their clothes did they sweat compassion disoriented with but a stutter of movement they were stuck each time a word no link with others lacking substance limped out alone was it ten days later their tongue and palate found strength for it but they are born for success of equal standing parted for so long did they greet one another exchanging stories did each for their part pass on the trials sustained through their love did they read the message exchange the news love was a food store which when it was heated with charcoal and fire the glowing embers of emotions stirred did they fill a large pot time after time drag the enclosure's night-time gate each one with tender eyes seeing nothing harmed the other did they listen thus for a whole year did the talking end did they then spend half a day in this silent way as the daylight fell from their staring gaze their inflamed thoughts did they pass that night like the camel herders in nocturnal endurance of cold and dark difficulties bringing illness did the dawn then glow and the sun call out approaching each other not crossing the boundary of mores and modesty longing for a balm with a mere forearm between them did they stand bodies held straight opposite each other avoiding the step of moving closer resisting the play-touch the youthful way the taste glimpsed in the distance did they just behold each other through their eyes they stood on the spot each one gazing standing upright did it last a thousand nights the legs of the termite emerged from the earth breaking the surface skin did is peel their bodies consume the flesh did it wound the veins pass to the nerves persisting to the very inside of the bone the bad news it places in you that you look on with fear is the trials and your death did they welcome it with their whole body and a smile there's a flower which blooms after morning's compassion has refreshed it with dew it brings forth a red liquid for the mouth to sip its stamen and stigma entwine like a rope was it this they exchanged offering as a legacy did they present it to taste as the last earthly food of love did they place at the other's ear the word which was missing the termite gathered up sand and detritus forming clay diligently rendering and plastering did it transform those two did a building arise did it mould from them a structure of wonder a lofty termite mound famed for its thickness and strength roaming in the sun-heat of daytime did people in the dry season grazing lands rest in its shade then move away in the evening unaware of the reality of the story that deep inside this shady backbone support two souls await the outcome of truth if self sacrifice is not made the breath of life not exchanged if one does not wait for an enduring legacy the building of a house upright children and earthly sustenance then the kisses and intentions are nothing but superficial a poison sipped to satisfaction in that one same moment like hyenas snatching a girl of good repute as they hide themselves in the higlo tree to pounce out quickly each man is expectant for what will fall to him a hyena and his grave hole the honour he has trampled the modesty he has snatched the lying illusion this does society harm did he strive for the highest level of fulfilment of love that closest to honour or is something still missing |