Anyone on /lit/ have a keen interest in Somali poetry? Seems like it's severely underrated.
>Due to the Somali people's passionate love for and facility with poetry, Somalia has also been called by, among others, the Canadian novelist and scholar Margaret Laurence, a "Nation of Poets" and a "Nation of Bards".[1]
>The 19th-century British explorer Richard Francis Burton, who visited the Somali Peninsula, similarly recounts in his book First Footsteps in East Africa how:
>The country teems with poets... every man has his recognized position in literature as accurately defined as though he had been reviewed in a century of magazines - the fine ear of this people causing them to take the greatest pleasure in harmonious sounds and poetic expressions ... Every chief in the country must have a panegyric to be sung by his clan, and the great patronize light literature by keeping a poet.[2]
>As the Somali Studies doyen Said Sheikh Samatar explains, a Somali poet is expected to play a role in supporting his clan, "to defend their rights in clan disputes, to defend their honor and prestige against the attacks of rival poets, to immortalize their fame and to act on the whole as a spokesman for them."[4] In short, a traditional poem is occasional verse composed to a specific end, with argumentative or persuasive elements, and having an historical context.
>The veteran British anthropologist and Horn of Africa specialist I. M. Lewis recounts how in the latter days of the rule of General Muhammad Siad Barre, the political opposition often relied on oral poetry, either recorded on cassette tapes or broadcast through the Somali language service of the BBC, to voice their dissent. When the British considered closing the Somali language service down for financial reasons, a delegation of prominent Somali leaders met with the British, and argued that "much as they appreciated the ambassador personally, it would be better to close the British embassy rather than terminate the BBC broadcast!"[5]
>>7898611
post some
>>7898690
>English translation of the poem titled ‘Corfield’, koofil in Somali by Sayid Muhammad Abdullah. This poem was written in 1913, after the dervishes defeated the British and their leader Richard Corfield.
You have died, Corfield, and are no longer in this world,
A merciless journey was your portion.
When, Hell-destined, you set out for the Other World,
tell them how God tried you.
Say to them: `From that day to this the Dervishes never ceased their assaults upon us.
The British were broken, the noise of battle engulfed us;
“With fervour and faith the Dervishes attacked us.’
Say: `They attacked us at mid-morning.’
Say: `Yesterday in the holy war a bullet from one of their old rifles struck me.
And the bullet struck me in the arm.’
Say: `In fury they fell upon us.’
Report how savagely their swords tore you,
Show these past generations in how many places the daggers were plunged.
Say:’ "Friend,” I called, “have compassion and spare me!”’
Say: `As I looked fearfully from side to side my heart was plucked from its sheath.’
Say: `My eyes stiffened as I watched with horror;
The mercy I implored was not granted.’
Say: `Striking with spear-butts at my mouth they silenced my soft words;
My ears, straining for deliverance, found nothing;
The risk I took, the mistake I made, cost my life.’
Say: `Like the war leaders of old, I cherished great plans for victory.’
Say: `The schemes the djinns planted in me brought my ruin.’
Say: `When pain racked me everywhere
Men lay sleepless at my shrieks.’
Say: `Great shouts acclaimed the departing of my soul.’
Say: `Beasts of prey have eaten my flesh and torn it asunder.’
Say: `The sound of swallowing the flesh and the fat comes from the hyena.’
Say: `The crows plucked out my veins and tendons.’
Say: `If stubborn denials are to be abandoned, then my clansmen were defeated.’
In the last stand of resistance there is always great slaughter.
Say: The Dervishes are like the advancing thunderbolts of a storm, rumbling and roaring
He was one of Somalia's most infamous poets. His was able to get thousands of men to join his cause in resisting the occupation of Somali territory by British/Italian colonials by his poetry alone.
I like this thing. What is their At Swim Two Birds?
>>7898795
Metafiction is not a part of their literary tradition so I'm certain there'll be no stylistic equivalents. The most famous somali poem is called "The Tree of Bad Counsel". I'll try to find a good English translation in the meantime I guess I'l give you the history surrounding it's creation.
>During 1901 and 1904, the Dervish army inflicted heavy losses on their enemies - the Ethiopians, the British, and the Italian forces. "His successes attracted to his banner even Somalis who did not follow his religious beliefs." On 9 January 1904, at the Jidaale (Jidballi) plain, the British Commander, General Charles Egerton, killed 1,000 Dervish.[2] This defeat forced Sayyid and his remaining men to flee to Majeerteen country.
>Around 1910, in a secret meeting under a big tree later nicknamed "Anjeel tale waa" ("The Tree of Bad Counsel"), about 600 Dervish followers decided to stop following Sayyid due to his perceived high-handedness. Their departure weakened, demoralized and angered Sayyid, and it was at this juncture that he composed his most famous poem entitled The Tree of Bad Counsel.
Also here's a link where men read aloud the Corfield poem in their native tongue. He starts at 1:37.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jk_5msMAEGY
Interesting stuff OP, always love to exposure to exotic things I would otherwise be unlikely ti come across
>>7898891
No worries man. It's a bitch to find good english translation though. In the meantime if you guys want I can post Somali folktales. It's pretty damn good. Aesop would enjoy them.
Once upon a time in the African bush, the animals needed a doctor, because infections caused by the arrows of hunters and other epidemics were ravaging the wildlife world. Then his majesty the Lion had an idea and called his subjects at his court declaring :
"My dear compatriots, I have called this meeting to inform you that we need a doctor in the bush to treat the injuries caused by hunters, so I would like some of you to volunteer as a future doctor and each candidate will present his qualifications before his majesty, that is to say, me and myself, but also his shortcomings."
The Candidates were numerous.
The Elephant, the Tiger, and the Monkey.
The Elephant began : "Your majesty, I consider myself fit to be the doctor of the jungle because I am tall and strong, I also have a trunk, which serves not only to collect gallons of water but it can be used to grab the weakest patients and put them on my back ..."
>Your defects, Mr Elephant, asked the impatient king.
>Your majesty, since I am heavy, I walk slowly.
>Next ! Patients may die before you arrive.
The Tiger introduced himself in his turn: "Your majesty, I can be the doctor of the bush because I am certainly in the best position. I can run at 100 MPH, I can also take patients in my mouth and climb a tree if necessary..."
>We understand but we are waiting for your defects Mr. Tiger, interrupted the king.
>Well, since I am a carnivore, I'll find it difficult to restrain myself when seeing a weakened animal.
>Next ! All patients are at risk of being eaten by you !
Then the Monkey introduced himself, smoothing the little hair on his head :
"Your majesty, I am certainly the ideal physician for the bush because I am the only person among us who is not only able to walk on all fours but I can also stand up like a man, I can even understand their words and serve you as a spy to warn you of hunters' conspiracies who run after you with their poisoned arrows."
>Let's come to your defects, if you please, Mr. Monkey! Stated the king.
>I don't have any, your majesty! Replied the Monkey.
>Not any! Emphasized the king.
>No I assure you, repeated the Monkey.
>Well there we are! What we need is a doctor without defects! You are hired, let it be known!
A few days later, his majesty had a sore eye. The doctor was called, he arrived badly dressed and growing bald like all the doctors, with a stone tied to his neck to listen to the heart. He examined the eye and declared that all was well.
The King insisted :
>Damn, My eye still hurts and you're the doctor, find what's wrong with my eye!
The Monkey plunged his hand into the eye of the king, plucked it out at once, put it before the king's nose and said : "Since you don't believe me, look at it yourself !"
Lesson : in the world of men as in the world of animals, Mr. Monkey is certainly not the only one to do "monkey business" to get a position beyond one's means.
This one is pretty modern.
>>7898884
The Tree of Bad Counsel sounds good.
One of At Swim's underlying themes is bad poetry and the people who enjoy it; O'Brien includes a poem which he wrote for a literary society in college whose function was to compose the worst poetry which could still be called poetry: the antagonists of the novel praise it above the senile poetry of the old bard, who is high handed and incomprehensible to them. Irish bardic traditions have similar concepts (including "noble songs" to be sung in praise of a tribe/family at gatherings); do we need a famine to need poetry?
>>7898913
Yeah I'll keep digging. I've honestly never read ASTB, but I've seen it mentioned here and there. I'll definitely look into it.
A long time ago two birds were neighbors. They built neighboring nests on the same tree. Their nests were cozy and safe for all their chicks. However, an eagle discovered their nests. The eagle came and ate their chicks and eggs every time they flew to fetch food.
One bird thought, "How can I protect my young from the eagle? The eagle is stronger than me. We're small and we don't like to fight. Let's light a fire in one of the nests. The eagle will smell the smoke, and never come back."
However, the nests were close to each another, and the fire ravaged both nests and everything around.
Moral: Be careful. If you don't how to do something, you can hurt yourself and others.
Once upon a time a goat and a sheep lived together in a lovely house. One day they left their house to eat some grass. When the goat returned, she saw a snake coming out of the house. The snake stopped by the door of the house. It was waiting to eat anything that tried to enter the house.
The goat ran to the sheep, and said, "I saw a snake come out of our house. What will we do ?"
The sheep said, "Show me the snake!" They both saw the snake in front of their house, waiting to eat them. They ran away as fast as they could. They came to the monkey's house which was on a banana farm. They asked the monkey for water, milk, and a place to sleep. The monkey asked, "What happened to you?"
They answered, "There is a dangerous snake in our house." The monkey felt so sorry for them that he gave them food and water. Then he took them to a nice house made of banana leaves. They thanked the monkey, and they slept.
When they woke up, the monkey said, "I'll let you live in this house with me. We should all stick together, and help each other." The goat and the sheep were happy. They became friends with the monkey, and ever since then, they were strong friends. Together they were safe against any enemy.
Lesson : There is safety in numbers, even when it means very different kinds of people getting along together.
>>7898917
If you want to do background reading from Irish myths before:
Read Kinsella's translation of The Tain.
Seamus Heaney has a translation of Buile Suibhne called Sweeney Astray.
They also mock basic Latin poetry in the book, but that's just one poem from Catullus. It's a weird book, but a great one.
Going to call it a night guys. I'll try to find it tomorrow if the threads still up. Here you guys go anyway.
Here's where I got the folktales from.
http://hooyo.web.free.fr/E_tale_00.html
>>7898940
Will do.
