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