#raage ugaas

[beerlula-00]

Ninkii ooridiisii rag kale, loo igdhaan ahaye

Ninka ilo biyo leh soo arkoo, oomman baan ahaye

I’m the man whose fiancé has been given to another,

I’m the man who sees springs but whose thirst remains unquenched.

~ - Raage Ugaas

[eastafricaart]

Poet’s lament on the death of his wife

Like the yu’ub wood bell tied to gelded camels that are running away,

Or like camels which are being separated from their young,

Or like people journeying while moving camp,

Or like a well which has broken its sides

Or a river which has overflowed its banks,

Or like an old woman whose only son was killed,

Or like the poor, dividing the scraps for their frugal meal,

Or like the bees entering their hive,

Or food crackling in the frying,

Yesterday my lamentations drove sleep from all the camps.

Raage Ugaas, published in Isidore Okpewho, African Oral Literature: Backgrounds, Character, and Continuity, Indiana University Press, 1992

[aescheretalks]

Ninka ilo biyo leh soo arkoo, oomman baan ahaye

I am the man who sees fresh water, but whose thirst stays unquenched

[hornafrican]

Somali Poetry I - Raage Ugaas

Raage Ugaas

Alleyl Dumay

Alleyl dumay albaabbadoo xiran, uunku wada seexday Onkod yeedhay uugaamo roob, alif banaadiiq ah Iihdayda bixi baa libaax, iman la moodaaye Raggase adhaxdiyo ooftu waa, udub dhexaadkiiye Labadii wax laga eegi jirey, waan ka awdnahaye Halkaan aa ka leeyahay Ilaah, keliya uun baa og Aboodigu ma lalo garab hadduu, iin ku leeyahaye Orod uma hollado oglihii, adhaxda beelaaye Ma aarsado il iyo oof ninkii, iimi kaga taale Aroos uma galbado nimuu, wadnaha arami jiifaaye Geeluba kolkuu oomo waa, olol badnaadaaye Sidii inan yar oo hooyadeed, aakhiro u hoyatay Oo aabbeheed aqal mid kale, meel illin ah seexshey Hadba waxaan la urugoonayaa, uur-ku-taallada e Ninkii ooridiisii rag kale, loo igdhaan ahaye Ninka ilo biyo leh soo arkoo, oomman baan ahaye Nin ugaas walaalkiis yahoo, eeday baan ahaye Af-dhabaandhow aayar ninkaa, aammusaan ahaye Raage Ugaas

Night Has Fallen Night had fallen and behind closed doors everyone was sleeping Thunder called out with a clamour of rain like shots from a thousand rifles So was my wailing heard that they thought it a lion approaching For men the spine and ribsides are the body's central support I am shut away now from the eyes through which I used to see Only God knows the source of my lamentations The vulture with an injury to his shoulder cannot fly The horse who has lost his spine cannot gallop The man injured in eye and ribs cannot seek revenge A man whose heart aches cannot take a bride home When the camels are thirsty their outcries increase Like a small girl whose mother now lives in the hereafter Whose father has brought another woman to sleep in the aqal* I grieve constantly from the sorrow deep in my belly I'm the man whose fiancée has been given to another I'm the man who sees springs but whose thirst remains unquenched I'm the man whose brother is clan leader and yet is accused I am that silent man who sits, slowly patting his mouth again and again * An aqal is a nomadic hut used by the Somalis.

© Raage Ugaas from Shire Jaamac Axmed, Gabayo, Maahmaah iyo Sheekooyin Yaryar. (Mogadishu: The National Printers); translation © Martin Orwin. via citylore.org

[eastafricaart]

as swift as if hurled from a sling

down a steep escarpment,

like roads, much pierced by spears of rain,

which run towards a well,

like a dry valley turned into a river in spate...

like the dawn when the sun touches with its rays

the thin high clouds,

as beautiful as the sky spread out to dry after rain,

with all its stains removed...

Raage Ugaas. As extracted in A Shield of Coolest Air by Marion Molteno

[eastafricaart]

When men closed their doors

before the awful darkness of the night,

I arose.

There emerged from the depths

of my tormented being a deep groan

like the rumbling thunder of a gloomy rain

or the jarring sound of a thousand exploding guns

or the obscene roar of a prowling, hungry lion.

Only Allah knows the acute hurt of my scarred soul

Raage Ugaas, published in Said A. Samatar, Oral poetry and Somali nationalism, Cambridge University Press, 1982. As extracted in A Shield of Coolest Air by Marion Molteno