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THE
POET'S DEATH IS HIS LIFE
By: Togane
Togane@sympatico.ca
 August
25-2006
ACCORDING
TO QUONDAM PRIME MINISTER, ABDIRASHID ALI SHARMARKE, WE
SOMALIS HAVE TWO ACES IN THE
HOLE:
OUR FAITH
IN ISLAM AND
OUR
LYRICAL POESY.
SO IT IS
WITH GREAT SADNESS THIS MORNING THAT I SHARE WITH YOU THE SAD NEWS
OF THE DEATH OF ABWAAN
AHMED
ISMAIL DIIRIYE, BETTER KNOWN TO THE WORLD AS "QAASIM", WHO DISTINGUISHED
HIMSELF AND MADE US
ALL PROUD
IN HIS COMPOSITIONS OF UNFORGETTABLE LYRICAL POESY IN OUR OWN
MOTHER TONGUE.
RABINDRANATH
TAGORE, THE GREAT INDIAN NOBLE LAUREATE SAID, "GOD RESPECTS ME
WHEN I WORK, BUT HE LOVES
ME WHEN I SING. "
QAASIM LOVED
TO SING AS HE WORKED FARMING SOMALI VERSE.
HIS SONG, "MACAAN
IYO QADHAADH", RANKS IN GREATNESS AND GRANDEUR AND IN BEAUTY
AND PATHOS AND IN
THEME AND
RANGE AND IN LEITMOTIF AND LYRICISM WITH THE BEST THAT HAS BEEN
THOUGHT AND SAID IN THE
WORLD.
WHEN I
FIRST HEARD IT IN MONTREAL, WALT WHITMAN'S "SONG OF MYSELF"
AND William Blake'S "The
Marriage of Heaven
and Hell" IMMEDIATELY POSSESSED AND PERVADED MY MIND.
THAT IS
HOW GREAT OUR QAASIM IS; HE IS WHITMAN'S NOT SO "SILENT
AND DARK-
CHEEKED
BUSH-BOY" WHO BEHIND HIM "RIDES AT THE DRAPE OF THE
DAY"; AND
WHO HAS
NOW JOINED HIM HOME IN HEAVEN.
WHEN
an Afmiishaar (Somali: literally, af (mouth) miishaar (saw),
meaning a saw-mouthed sage; a pundit; a spinmeister; a
demagogue;
one who is wise in his own sight; a smashmouth: one who smashes images,
names, and reputations with
his
mouth because his mouth is as cutting as a saw; a wiseacre; a wise guy,
a wise-ass full of wisecracks and wise saws and modern
instances;
a rainmaker; a pimp of power politics and "The Pornography Of
Power"; a rumourmonger; a sower of the tares of
suspicions
& character assassinations) attempted to cruelly caricature
our formidable Somali poet, Qaasim, and write him off as mere
mug-turned-blotto,
Qaasim's refutation of the attack on his reputation became his
classic much-celebrated signature song, "Macaan
iyo
Qaraar", which is now as distinguished and as famous as
Frank Sinatra's classic signature song "I Did it My Way".
"Macaan
iyo Qaraar" is well-known to all connoisseurs of Somalia's
current literary scene. It is for this reason that I rendered it into
English
in the summer of 1986 for The Montreal World Poetry Festival. It
was later featured in the Montreal literary review,
Zymergy,
to which I contributed poems and essays during the late ‘80s and
early ‘90s, when I also served on its editorial board.
Another
version of the story behind this now internationally famous Somali song
goes as follows:
Qaasim the
Somali poet was once asked by his exasperated friends & fans:
“Qaasim!
Who are
you? Are you the poet the Somali nation is most proud of
or are you
the jerk
the drunk
the bum
the
katcrazy cur
the
katcrushing cat
the
crazywater consumer
the
dweller of ditches and gutters
we pick up every
dawn before the call of the muezzin
from the
ditch
from the
gutter
“Qaasim!
Who the
hell are you?
It is now
my pleasure and delight to lighten our grievous loss of Qaasim, of our
great Somali poet, of that national treasure, of that
light that shone
in the world, of that voice that sang of love in the midst of
our crooked and cruel and clannish and perverse and hate-
harried Somali
nation, by sharing with you all Qaasim's riposte, his Apologia Pro
Vita Sua ("MACAAN IYO QADHAADH")
ENGLISHED
by this OTHER SON OF WALT, BY this OTHER DARK-CHEEKED SOMALI
BUSH-BOY:
Sweetness
& Bitterness
(For
Goosh & Sheila Andrzejewski)
Without
contraries is no progression. —Blake
Do I
contradict myself?
Very
well then I contradict myself,
(I am
large, I contain multitudes).
l
Sometimes even the aloes bear honeyed flowers
Whose
nectar you slurp
I
am sweetness & bitterness planted in the
same place.
ll
My
right hand & my left hand are twins
One
entertains the guests & walks the weak
The
other is a dagger dripping woes &
wormwood.
lll
My
boy, I am rich
I
contain countless contraries
Do
not take me for a poor miskiin
monomaniac
Out
on a limb
Hectoring
for his bloody hobbyhorse.
lV
Sometimes
I am faithfully obedient
Well-mannered
Utterly
innocent of Evil.
V
Sometimes
I am the obdurate destroyer
An
arrant knave.
Vl
Sometimes
I am the anchorite who sequesters himself
in the mosque
To
review his life & purify his heart.
Vll
Sometimes
I am the villain
The
loony who blusters in every saloon in Somalia
"Go
to now
I'll
prove thee with mighty-mouthed Evil
Till
my cup runneth over
With
contumely
With
crazy Asha
With
crazywater.
Vlll
Sometimes
I am the towering heads
Of
wit
Of
wisdom
Of
waggery
Of
honor
Of
forbearance
Of
forgiveness.
lX
Sometimes
I am the loafer
The
nowhere man with no name in the street.
X
Sometimes
I am a man who does not allow
Anything
Haraan
Anything
not kosher
Go
past his gullet.
Xl
Sometimes
I am a thief dyed-in-the-wool
Who
does not spare
Even
the orphan’s share.
Xll
Sometimes
I am the leader of silent sages &
high-ranking saints.
Xlll
Sometimes
I am an honorable member of Satan’s conclave
After
the fiend’s very own heart.
XlV
A
presumptuous jackass
Cannot
size me up
For
I am
Fearfully
Wonderfully
Fashioned
For
I run interference for chameleons
For
I run schools for chameleons
For
I chop & change.
XV
Day
in
Day
out
Daily
I turn
Every
morning my mien is distinctly
Of
different color
Of
different creed
I
know how to huddle & hobnob
With
both Muslims & heathen honky alien monkey
ofay kaffirs
The
angels of Hell & Heaven argue over my
sinful Somali soul.
XVl
No
man has traced to me
All
these contraries I trail
But
a man of many days
One
whose head is hoary
Or
One
who is hip to sizing men up
May
possibly take my proper measure.
XVll
O
everyman Jack
Pick
Your
sweetest
Your
aptest
Your
most magnificent metaphor
To
brand me with.
XVlll
You
Over
there
My
hobbledehoy
Hop
on the hobbyhorse
Your
heart hobbles after
Or
the one you can’t help but
Harass
me with
Tease
me with
Taunt
me with
Tear
me with
Tar
me with
Feather
me with.
XlX
Speak
Right
on
Ride
on
For
I make means for you.
XX
Please
prowl
& Pounce
Pronounce
& proclaim
Publish
& brandish
Your
finger-licking
Your
finger-pointing
Your
finger-stone-throwing
Your
finger-frigging Ayatollah
fanatical fatwa
Your
finger-wagging fitna
Your
farcical fatude.
XXl
Please
Right
now
Right
here
Holler the Hobson's
hooey you are hoarding in your horrible
hypocrite heart.
--------Mahamud
siad togane
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