Bitter and Sweet

By Axmed Ismaacil Diiriye 'Qaasim'

Consider the aloe – how bitter is its taste!

Yet sometimes there wells up a sap so sweet

That it seems like honey in your mouth.

Side by side the sweet and the bitter run

Just as they do, my friends, in me,

As I switch from sweet to bitter

And back to sweet again

My two hands, right and left, are twins.

One twin gives food to strangers and to guests,

But the other is a slashing, cutting knife –

As sharp to the taste as myrrh,

As bitter as the aloe.

Do not suppose that I am the kind of man

Who walks along one path, and that path only.

I go one way, and seem a reasonable man,

I provoke no one, I have the best of natures –

I go another, and I'm obstinate and bold,

Striking out at others without cause.

Sometimes I seem a learned man of God

Who retreats in ascetic zeal to a secluded sanctuary –

I turn again and I'm a crazy libertine,

Sneakily snatching whatever I can get.

I am counted as one of the elders of the clan,

Esteemed for my wisdom, tact and skill in argument,

But within me there dwells a mere townee, too –

A no-good layabout he is, at that.

I'm a man whose gullet will allow no passage

For food that believers are forbidden to eat,

And yet I'm a pernicious, hardened thief –

The property of even the Prophet himself

Would not be safe from me.

I have my place among the holy saints,

I am one of the foremost of their leaders,

But at times I hold high rank in Satan's retinue,

And then my lords and masters are the jinns.

It's no good trying to weigh me up –

I can't be balanced on a pair of scales.

From this day to that my very colour changes –

Nay, I'm a man whose aspect alters

As morning turns to evening

And back once more to morning.

Muslims and infidels – I know their minds

And understand them through and through.

"He's ours!" the angels of Hell proclaim to me

"No, ours!" the angels of Heaven protest.

I have then, all these striking qualities

Which no one can ignore –

But who can really know my mind?

Only a grey-head who has lived for many days

And learned to measure what men are worth.

And now, my friends, each man of you –

If either of the paths I follow

Takes your fancy and delights your heart,

Or even if you cannot bear to lose

The entertainment I provide,

Then come to me along that path -

You're free to make a choice!

Fleeting Joys

By Ismaaciil Mire

Downpours of rain, dry valleys newly watered,

Hillsides resplendent with new verdant growth

And clans assembling under and acacia tree –

On such things were my thoughts and affections set,

But this world provides no lasting satisfaction

Meat of gelded camel being offered to the family,

Soured camel's milk, and food that does not spoil

Set out on massive dishes under handsome covers,

A bridal hut, with inner chambers specially contrived,

A straight-limbed girl with necklace and silk dress,

A young and splendid wife who passes to and fro

As she diligently serves you with your food,

Ever loth to leave you with your appetite unsated.

From her perfumed dress the scent of incense rises –

Truly her beauty was bestowed on her by God!

On such things were my thoughts and my affections set,

But this world provides no lasting satisfaction.

Burden camels, powerful and broad-necked,

Gedled camels, fit for the largest loads.

Great herds of camels, herds of cattle,

Weapons as numberless as grains of sand,

Girls deftly peeling fibre from the qabo bush

To make a great bowl to hold skim milk.

On such things were my thoughts and affections set,

But this world provides no lasting satisfaction.

A dish of choicest camel meat,

A sheep's quarter seasoned well with salt,

A wicker-framed milk vessel filled to the brim.

Tea and a drink of thinned-downed honey,

Mutton spiced and finely sliced –

On such things were my thoughts and affections set,

But this world provides no lasting satisfaction.

Ina Qooqan, Looshane, Qaabil, Tuure and Qadow Calameed –

These were my battle-horses, and Qalas, too –

On these I rode as we made ready for the holy war.

I accustomed myself to desert life

Often I hunted our enemies at the forest edge

Often indeed I killed them and came back in triumph,

Adorned with the feather that the victor wears.

Many a time I was commander of our military ventures

And the forces of the infidels grew weary with me.

O how oftenI have sought to pursue the path of goodness!

And as for my transgressions –

Well, it is customary to stay silent.

But life does not last forever

And death reaches every living man.

I wander now in lonely places, my beard grown grey.

The world deceives that man

Who has not learnt the Words of Faith,

So instruct me in the Koran, O Teacher,

And let me tether a young she-camel as your reward!