POET
Asha Lul Mohamud Yusuf
BRIDGE TRANSLATORS
Said Jama Hussein
Maxamed Xasan ‘Alto’
FINAL TRANSLATOR
Clare Pollard
Intaan bukto jiifto oo
Bustaha iyo gogosha iyo
barkimo aay daashatoo
La soo booqdo aan ahaa
Intaan beer cadaaday oo
Biyaha iyo oonta iyo
Baadkii aan ka soomayoo
Bishmiyo dibmihii ka xedhay,
Intaan talo baah sanayad
Baandheeyey warkeedo
Buugiyo qorihii furoo
Baabkii noloshayada galay
Dadkoo badankii hordoo
Habeenkii uu badh tegay
Ayaan baasaha aduun
Layeesha hawlo badan.
Bariidadu waydhibtaa
Baashalkii waan kago’ay
Sidii aan bayr qaban
Anigu baadiyoobayoo
Bananka wareegyaa
Beerkiyo wadanahuu degoo
Bariinsaday caashaqii
Boogtii uu igu dhigaan
Bulshada ka ilaaliya
Baal daaq ban keli la ahay
Budaydid iyo aragtidii
Bartii dhegaha iyo maqal
Basaasoo awadoo
Cidlay kaa baafiyaayoo
Intaan babbaca iyo dhagx
Burciidoo aad u kulul
Bacaadka lugeeyeyoo
Cad ceeda baqoolayoo
Baraadli socod ku maray
Intaa bayhoofayoo
Booramaha jiidhayoo
Biimayey naftayda oon
Dartaa bohlaha u galay
Dhamaan baalayda
Banjoogta ugaadhaiyo
Bulaale libaaxa iyo
Baraale shabeelkaiyo
Bahwyntii habar dugaag
Bankiyo aydaba la degey
Waxaan basan basanahay
Basiirad kur kaygu yahay
Basaasta jidh kaygu qabo
Waxaa iga bin laha
Baxsanow waa argtidaa
Bogaa kuu oomanoo
Bawluhu dhiigii ma habo
Bishmuhu hadal way gabeen
Indhu bidhiqi day hayaan
Buruudkii inaan ragow
Badheedhah geesigow
Bildhalad kaandoortayow
Birr labtii en jabayan
Bayaan baa loo xushaa
Ragaba kaan kala baxoow!!!!!
Waxaan ku badhaadhi laa
Busharada faraxaliyo
Bil khayr ii noqon lahaa
Naftani ku bogsoon lahayd
Bidhaantaadoo qudhee
Hadmaan baxsanow ku heli?
Like a bedridden patient
unable to venture
beyond mattress and pillow,
forbidden anything but a visitor,
I burn inside.
I can’t imbibe water.
I can’t eat bread.
My lips have been sealed shut.
Many days I’ve bestowed
on battling with what’s best,
no page has been unturned
in a bid to find my fate.
Beyond, others slumber soundly
in the night’s blackness
but I engage in barren arguments,
bicker with each day’s events.
I find best wishes tasteless.
I can’t be pleased by social niceties.
I feel so phobic,
I like loneliness better,
ambling aimlessly through plains.
My heart belongs to him.
His love has beaten me.
I am under such bewitchment
I blanch at social gatherings,
I hold myself back.
My bearing and discretion,
all that’s visible and audible
has been blunted
as I beseech in the wilderness.
I walk the brutal stony land,
bear the burning heat of sand
and ramble about
under the blasting sun
blind to my destination.
Many times I’ve been lost
and fallen into an abyss
risked my life in this bid,
got into bad situations.
All the winged birds,
brute animals, game animals,
the blond-coloured lion,
the blotched leopard,
the wider kin of wild beasts,
I settle with them in the open land and the bush.
The blows that I suffer,
the blues that hang over me,
the withering body
would be long gone
O Beloved, with the sight of you.
I observe my thirst,
my heart not functioning as before,
my lips benumbed,
my eyes blinking.
You’re admired by men,
a brave hero.
Be my new moon –
unbreakable metal,
the desire of my being,
the best of all souls.
What comfort it would be
to hear that bright news.
Such balm to welcome you,
to abate the anxiety –
to behold you.
When, Beloved, will that be?
SOURCE: Poetry Translation Centre
