#somali poem

[blckasf]

The love I have for Somali poetry and songs>>

[beerlula-00]

Maxaa erey tafiir go'ay!

Maxaan maanso teeriya,

Every lost syllable tells in my heartbeat,

Every lost line is a scar on my heart.

- Maxamad Xaashi Dhamac ‘Gaariye’

[poems-from-around-the-world]

Come to me softly - Xasan Ganey - Somalia

Translator: Ibrahim Hirsi (Somali)

Her:

You, the bloomed Qaydar tree,

drenched by a rain,

leaves a fragrant wind which shakes,

You, my qudhac flowers

You are the one

I’ve chosen,

The one I desire.

You who my soul follows

You will soon be refreshed

So come to me slowly.

Him:

You who are sweet like

the mareer fruit

That grows with beauty

And fragrant like the Qawl

You who cool

My smouldering heart

Covered in wounds

You the precious one

You will soon be refreshed

So come to me slowly

Her:

You who are like

the rain overflowing

the channels

In a lush green

You, who are a vessel full of ghee

Of which I’ve taken my share —

You, my strong ram.

You who my soul follows

You will be refreshed

So come to me slowly.

Him:

You who are

a rainbow,

sashes of colours,

And the freshly-fallen rain

You who are spring’s greenery,

With new shoots for grazing

And on places to camp.

You, the precious one.

You will be refreshed

So come to me slowly.

[he--wrote]

Even Rome did not believe it would fall.

He.Wrote —‘It was written for me to love you.’

[kemetic-dreams]

Elmi Boodhari (Somali: Cilmi Ismaaciil Liibaan, Arabic: علمي اسماعيل ليبان) (1908 – 1940) was a Somali poet and pioneer in the genre of Somali love poems. He is known among Somalis as the King of Romance (Boqorkii Jacaylka). He was born near the border between Ethiopia and Somalia in 1908 and hailed from the Eidagale sub-clan

He is known in the Somali world for his love poems that he wrote to a girl named Hodan Abdulle that he fell in love and met in Berbera. Boderi was working at a bakery shop in the port city of Berbera when he fell in love with Hodan Abdi. Bodari began to write her romantic poems, and in one of his poems he spoke of once seeing Hodan’s naked body, which was considered a serious offense in those times given and still is, in addition to several other elements that stood in the face of him marrying her. Hodan got married and it is said that he died from the resulting heartbreak.

Elmi Boodhari differed from the poets of his generation in that he eschewed the popular theme of Tribal war and vengeance in Somali poetry, instead wholly focusing on love and composing all his poems for Hodan, which was seen as highly unconventional and scandalous, for this reason he was ridiculed by society.

Author Mohamed Diiriye in his book Culture and Customs of Somalia, writes:

Among the poets of the past century, a poet who has gained the hearts of all Somalis in every district is Elmi Boodhari, many major poets such as Mohamed Abdallah Hassan and Abdi Gahayr, aroused resentment among some Somalis, as they addressed diatribes against the members of a certain clan, or urged bloodletting; such poets are known as viper tongues, and the poems of such poets have been known to cause feuds and clan wars. But not so with Elmi Boodhari, his subject was romance and only that. While the poets of his day where addressing serious subjects such as war and feuds, Boodhari composed all of his poems for the lady of his affection Hodan, who was given in hand of marriage to a man much wealthier than him. Instead of getting literary kudos for his beautiful verse, Boodhari was made the object of public ridicule. Somali society had not been of course devoid of romance either in song or prose in any age, but to proclaim the object of ones love was frowned upon in the social mores of Somalis.

Boodhari also faced alienation and ridicule from his fellow Eidagale kinsmen and composed the following verse:

If a man has a wound he is taken to the doctor, but the braves of Daud are ridiculing me

Mohamed Diiriye commenting on the above verse writes:

It was enough that Hodan's relatives were infuriated and felt that their daughter's name had been soiled by a man who was proclaiming in public his love for her, but Boodhari also had to face the fury of his kinsmen, the Daud, who all together disowned him for spending his days pining for one woman when they could get him a girl as beautiful or more beautiful than she. Boodhari tried in lament to remind his kinsmen that the wounds of the heart merit the same attention as the wounds of the flesh.

She is altogether fair: Her fine-shaped bones begin her excellence; Magnificent of bearing, tall is she; A proud grace is her body’s greatest splendor; Yet she is gentle, womanly, soft of skin. Her gums’ dark gloss is like unto blackest ink; And a careless flickering of her slanted eyes Begets a light clear as the white spring moon. My heart leaps when I see her walking by, Infinite suppleness in her body’s sway. I often fear that some malicious djinn May envy her beauty, and wish to do her harm.

— From “Qaraami” (Passion), as presented by Margaret Laurence in A Tree for Poverty.

Influence on Somali Music

Boodharis poetic style and subject matter heavily influenced Somali Music and musicians such as Abdullahi Qarshe who was one of the pioneers the popular Balwo and Heello Genres.

Matters began to change following World War 2 as musicians and composers, like Abdullahi Qarshe, popularly known as the father of Somali music, began to pioneer a new genre- that of Balwo and Heello, both of these terms refer to forms of lyrical verse, the difference between the two being that balwo is four lines only while heello is considerably longer. Both styles broke new grounds in style and content. the subject matter differed radically from the past, as compositions focused in on love and nationalism, rather than the epic tales of war and adversity as in the old hees, at least some of this shift can be accredited to Elmi Boodhari, a baker who composed during the 1930s. He is said to have recited his compositions describing his unrequited love for a woman named Hodan until he wasted away and perished in 1941. ~Africa: An Encyclopedia of Culture and Society [3 volumes]: An Encyclopedia of Culture and Society

[iamtheweirdomister]

“what they did yesterday afternoon”

by warsan shire

they set my aunts house on fire

i cried the way women on tv do

folding at the middle

like a five pound note.

i called the boy who use to love me

tried to ‘okay’ my voice

i said hello

he said warsan, what’s wrong, what’s happened?

i’ve been praying,

and these are what my prayers look like;

dear god

i come from two countries

one is thirsty

the other is on fire

both need water.

later that night

i held an atlas in my lap

ran my fingers across the whole world

and whispered

where does it hurt?

it answered

everywhere

everywhere

everywhere.

"Somali-British poet Warsan Shire’s poem evokes intimacy — a crying child lucky enough to have a mom or a dad hold her or him, whispering “where does it hurt?” Shire enters that moment and opens it out into the wide world..."

[haaniyah]

I wrote a poem about my mother

my mother’s child

I am my mother’s child.

We share a singular dimple on our left cheek. 

Our skin never fully heals from cuts or scrapes—leaving behind fleshy grooves and bumps. 

Her eyes are the same umber shade as mine but below hers lie delicate crinkles that bunch together when she smiles. 

She smells of unsi and Lancôme perfume—the latter I quietly borrowed from her when I moved away.*

When I came home she told me her heart felt whole again.

Most nights I hear her speaking loudly over the phone to my aunts.

They remain her only connection to Somalia while she resides in a town still so unfamiliar. 

I try to speak to her but the language fails to materialise in my mouth, it circles around my mouth and leaves me sputtering.

I wonder if she wishes she could speak to me in the same way she spoke to her mother.

Is there a level of affection I’ve missed out on through my inability to retain her native tongue? 

Still, I reply with ‘haa?’ whenever she asks me something. She corrects me and I repeat with ‘haa mamo?’ to which she smiles.* 

We speak in halves and broken riddles, she alters my pronunciations and I amend her English text messages when she asks for it. 

My mother tells me she’s proud of me when I confide in her with my dreams to be a novelist. 

She tells me not to worry about work—I have a home with her and food on the table.

I clean for her and she makes malawax the same way she did when I was a kid.*

We sit on our sofa and converse like old friends reunited while her Turkish masalsalats blare in the background. *

For a moment I forget that there were times she may have not been here with me.

She once wrote love notes behind old photographs so my brothers and I could remember what she looked like.

Her bedside table is a snapshot of her life—perfumes, family photos, medicine packets, and a Quran.

I thank Allah everyday that I’ve grown to the age of 24 and she’s sat beside me. 

I am my mother’s child and I know that I would be lost without her. 

A whimpering baby, lost and crying for comfort that no longer exists. 

- Haaniyah Angus

* unsi = incense

* haa means ‘yes’ in Somali and haa mamo means ‘yes mum’.

* malawax = pancakes

* TV dramas from the SWANA region (think soap opera)

[gqwego]

Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems - Warsan Shire

EPUB & PDF Ebook Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems | EBOOK ONLINE DOWNLOAD

by Warsan Shire.

Download Link : DOWNLOAD Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems

Read More : READ Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems

Ebook PDF Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems | EBOOK ONLINE DOWNLOAD Hello Book lovers, If you want to download free Ebook, you are in the right place to download Ebook. Ebook Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems EBOOK ONLINE DOWNLOAD in English is available for free here, Click on the download LINK below to download Ebook Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems 2020 PDF Download in English by Warsan Shire (Author).

 Description Book: 

Poems of migration, womanhood, trauma, and resilience from the celebrated collaborator on Beyonc?'s Lemonade and Black Is King, award-winning Somali British poet Warsan Shire.Mama, I made itout of your home, alive, raised by thevoices in my head.With her first full-length poetry collection, Warsan Shire introduces us to a young girl, who, in the absence of a nurturing guide, makes her own stumbling way towards womanhood. Drawing from her own life and the lives of loved ones, as well as pop culture and news headlines, Shire finds vivid, unique details in the experiences of refugees and immigrants, mothers and daughters, Black women, and teenage girls. In Shire's hands, lives spring into fullness. This is noisy life: full of music and weeping and surahs and sirens and birds. This is fragrant life: full of blood and perfume and shisha smoke and jasmine and incense. This is polychrome life: full of henna and moonlight and lipstick and turmeric and kohl.The long-awaited collection from

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 10.3 (after 1950)

1951 – Korean War: The First Battle of Maryang San pits Commonwealth troops against communist Chinese troops. 1952 – The United Kingdom successfully tests a nuclear weapon in the Montebello Islands, Western Australia, to become the world's third nuclear power. 1957 – The California State Superior Court rules that the book Howl and Other Poems is not obscene. 1962 – Project Mercury: US astronaut Wally Schirra, in Sigma 7, is launched from Cape Canaveral for a six-orbit flight. 1963 – A violent coup in Honduras begins two decades of military rule. 1981 – The hunger strike at the Maze Prison in Northern Ireland ends after seven months and ten deaths. 1985 – The Space Shuttle Atlantis makes its maiden flight, carrying two DSCS-III Satellites on STS-51-J. 1986 – TASCC, a superconducting cyclotron at the Chalk River Laboratories in Canada, is officially opened. 1989 – A coup in Panama City is suppressed and 11 participants are executed. 1990 – The German Democratic Republic is abolished and becomes part of the Federal Republic of Germany; the event is afterwards celebrated as German Unity Day. 1991 – Nadine Gordimer is announced as the winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature. 1993 – An American attack against a warlord in Mogadishu fails; eighteen US soldiers and over 350 Somalis die. 1995 – O. J. Simpson murder case: O. J. Simpson is acquitted of the murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman. 2008 – The Emergency Economic Stabilization Act of 2008 for the U.S. financial system is signed by President George W. Bush. 2009 – Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Turkey join in the Turkic Council. 2013 – At least 360 migrants are killed when their boat sinks near the Italian island of Lampedusa. 2015 – Forty-two people are killed and 33 go missing in the Kunduz hospital airstrike in Afghanistan. 2021 – Eight people are killed in an airplane crash near Milan, Italy. 2022 – Svante Pääbo is awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine.

[tesseract-s]

today's poetry foundation email poem of the day has got me so emotional so here it is for all of you

Bright Bloom

BY HELENE ACHANZAR

I wish I had hiked the frozen hill tonight 

for reception, called to tell you I had a good time 

hearing the two Somali cab drivers laughing 

near an avalanche of on-sale oranges.  

I played a prince in absolute awe 

as the orchestra soared. I wish I had braved

the snow to say, I ain't want nothing but got the world. 

How I’ll whisper about the one wasp

who lived with me here through all of October,  

that snowy owl in the nettles so close inland 

in November, the night, its lick of moon. Tell me again 

what your home looks like: wet grapefruit pulp, 

pomegranate juices running over fingers 

as the fruit is split, every dirt smudge 

on the cream carpet. The morning sunlight dancing 

off shards of glass, knocking perfume bottles 

and photographs, light emptying into itself like a sun 

at the center of a sun. This life of little regret 

with no sad trombones. I imagine a new year

caked with your grin, your unflagging belief 

in the bright bloom, the point just before liberation. 

The road will end one day, but on all other days, 

it does not. Think, my love, of all the stars 

where better versions are breathing.

[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

[arts-dance]

"Home" by Warsan Shire

Benedict Cumberbatch lends his support to a Save the Children charity single raising money for Syrian refugees.

[mossybuttons]

I saw this image the other day and I wrote a poem based off of it because I was in a very Shel Silverstein mood <3

My Spanish is terrible, my German's a mess. I'm losing my English, but I'm trying my best.

My sign language is rough, and the Arabic's worse. If I wrote a poem in Czech you couldn't translate one verse.

I've tried Tamil and Urdu and Turkish and Russian. Portuguese, Hindi, Bengali, and Persian.

Dedicating oneself to a whole vocabulary? Not I. I think I'll pick up some Belarusian and Thai.

Somali or Farsi could have some fun words, but narrow dedication is decidedly for nerds.

My creole French is worse than a baby's.

I guess it's time to try Chinese.

[he--wrote]

We will not be compensated for all the expectations, peace of mind, and time we forfeited. All we get is the smell of rain.

He.Wrote — ‘grieving you while you’re still alive’.

[therewasabrowncrow]

Gobanimo

Freedom is nothing else

It's a journey amidst the journeys of life

When a person's ambitions and needs outgrow the confines of their current social structures

Be it clan systems or the subsequent colonial regimes

and their aspirations and intelligence become larger than the way of life

They move towards freedom

Gobanimo.

The time they move towards it , fight for it, sacrifice their life for it

It's done for a purpose

He's searching for it so to live by it

He's not worshipping it

It's not a nice picture he looks at

-Somali poet Hadraawi talking through his poem 'Gudgude'