For a while now I haven’t recited my poetry of the ‘D’ or ‘W’

Old poems with their verses and meanings I have left

Even those I used to recite so beautifully

Yet, being a Somali my feelings are aroused 

I am filled with anger and great loss

An inner force obliges me to leave the silence and speak up

 

My poems imbue the anti-colonials with zest

But, alas, while the hopeless is at the helm of power

I thought none would heed my words; rather leave them out

Also seeing them beating drums for the worthless

I conjured animals are by far better; so not to worry about them

They are the real cause of their pain; so why bother

 

A person so cheaply won and accordingly marked

And remotely controlled is all that is left; so why the worry

Some decorated with false titles of the highest ranks 

Yet, flaming the passion for hatred are all that remain so far

 

It is not my choice; but I am compelled by sense of duty

To seek and recover some long lost dear ones

To replace this backwardness with something durable in value

To recover the cherished gathering tree long uprooted

And keep remembering heroes long buried in the grave

And those who have lost their lives in shipwreck 

As well as the reckless refugees riding the wild seas

 

A person who has been made to taste the bitterness of the aloe tree

And suffers wound caused by his brothers hardly recovers

A great fire is set in the forests of the country

And to ensure it remains ablaze has been planned by men

Who pay a lot of money that it continues unabated

 

This is an account of the perils and their devastating effects

The use of tanks and armoured cars for destruction

The mines scattered all over the land

The roaring guns coming from all sides by orders

Are all to the disgrace of those who care not 

The least for his own people

 

You would have lived in peace had you known your duty

You have surely chosen the path of your doom

You keep calling for war instead of shunning it

Your elders are bent on fanning enmity and hatred

The upcoming generation is the biggest victim

The aspiring youth are the first slain by the sword

The women and children are under constant threat of fire exchange

Like falling rain weapons come down showering over them

Yet, you come to the defence of those behind the machination

 

You are absolving them from their villainous deeds

Which means you’re submissive to your miserable affairs

You have registered yourself in the bad books of history

Ironically, you share the same brotherhood by birth and race

The flaming fire, the rising tide, the roaring wind

Why don’t you, acting together, put an end to them

Get reconciled, pray together, and work for peace

Engage your elders and clergymen in the mission

Come together from both feuding sides dressed in your best attire

Open all venues of amity; the people who are so sick and tired

 

Let me not look like scratching the wounds unhealed yet

For continuing on the same vein will only aggravate matters

So, in conclusion, may I ask you to join me in beseeching God

To bless us with a gallant and honest leader

One against exploitation and for our protection

One steeped in patriotism and goodness for his people

May God also send us clouds full of rain

 That falls in spring and winter too making the land evergreen,

And purifying our souls of all ill feelings.