Poems

Our Land

The sky is full of spring signs:
lightning, flashing everywhere,
clouds heavy with rain,
slow in their movements,
ready to pour generously.

The land inundated
with rain water
filling the pits
and pools full.

The flowers blossoming
with so many colours,
each in full bloom,
shaken by the breeze.

The trees, from top to bottom,
straight as lines,
their leafy branches
touching one another.

The birds for their part
gathering in flocks,
singing a shared tune
while frogs emerge in their own way.

At both ends of the day,
morning and evening,
the rain steadily falling.

The ripe dhafarur fruit
completely coloured
in crimson, 
the midhcaanyo fruit close by.

The jinaw tree in full fruition, 
grown leaves 
covering its height,
ready for plucking.

The ostrich and antelope 
basking in beauty
along with the gazelle,
taking their time
feeding on blossoming 
trees with relish.

Camels giving birth to calves,
cows with drooping udders,
sheep and goats ready to milk.

All the livestock
within your sight
whichever way you look,
grazing near the homestead.

The herding youth
in their white sheets
resting in the shade,
passing time with games,
chatting without a care.

And the she-camels
Gorad and Gobaad,
hearing their calves cry,
feeling the weight of their milk.
Responding to the call.

While evening is still young,
the herders take positions,
draw the longed-for milk
from the she-camels
into smoke-cleansed vessels,
filling them to the brim
in this peaceful settlement.

Recounting this heaven
that can be found in our land,
such abundance
overflowing,
such purity and plenty,
we must thank God.

London 2011

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