She is altogether fair:
Her fine-shaped bones begin her excellence;
Magnificent of bearing, tall is she;
A proud grace is her body’s greatest splendor;
Yet she is gentle, womanly, soft of skin.
Her gums’ dark gloss is like unto blackest ink;
And a careless flickering of her slanted eyes
Begets a light clear as the white spring moon.
My heart leaps when I see her walking by,
Infinite suppleness in her body’s sway.
I often fear that some malicious djinn
May envy her beauty, and wish to do her harm.
(Passion - Cilmi Boodhari)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Winds that possess the power of speech
Are something new in this world, perhaps,
But you must swear to me, O Wind, by the Everlasting One
That you will receive the impress of my words!
Indeed I would have gone to the sailing ships
And handed them my letters in a packet
But ships may tarry on their journeys
And nights may pass before they come to port,
So it is you, O Wind, whom I have chosen,
You who have the speed I demand.
Swear to me then by the Everlasting One
That you will receive the impress of my words!
You pass above the ground,
Above the settlements of men,
Never resting, you run and run
As if sent by God on everlasting errands.
Weariness is not for you,
It is only the living whose breath gives out.
I have heard that other men have stepped forward
To claim the girl on whom my mind was set-
Wind, swear to me by the Everlasting One
That you will carry my words through the air!
Daroole is where I found my solace,
That is the place that you must find,
And nothing must stop you -
Not bad roads, nor screens of matting
Muuse knows the country well
And he knows where she is to be found.
There is a man who looks at her admiringly -
O this world is a precipitous mountain path!
Tell her that stone houses and walls would have felt the pain
Tell her that termite hills would have sprouted green grass
If they had but heard these words of mine!
(The Messenger - Cilmi Boodhari)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the camels come back thirsty
From many nights of grazing in the Haud,
They are brought to a halt just short of the well
While a youth sings, trying to keep them calm.
But they want to press forward, for already they hear
The "hoobay! hoobay!" of the watering-chant.
I am like that when I hear you say "Hodan"!
Her name seems to you so simple,
But to me it brings grief and woe.
I shall never give her up,
Not till the day they tread earth into her grave.
Rapt in a deceitful trance
I thought I was sleeping by her side,
But it was a jinn, not she herself,
A Jinn made in the image of her sister.
I tried to catch her by the hand
But the place by my side was empty -
I found I was striving in vain
For there was no one there.
I tossed from side to side, then suddenly awoke -
I rumpled my bed like a prowling lion,
I attacked the bedclothes and pounded them,
As if it were they that had caused my loss.
Like a hero against whom men have combined
I covered my face, all but my defiant eyes.
I was humbled, like a boy who could not save from robbers,
The herd entrusted to his care.
I felt disgraced, as a woman does
When the words "I divorce you" are said to her.
It is degrading to yearn for what you cannot have.
Alas, alas, what disaster has befallen me!
("A Vain Love - Cilmi Boodhari")
Her fine-shaped bones begin her excellence;
Magnificent of bearing, tall is she;
A proud grace is her body’s greatest splendor;
Yet she is gentle, womanly, soft of skin.
Her gums’ dark gloss is like unto blackest ink;
And a careless flickering of her slanted eyes
Begets a light clear as the white spring moon.
My heart leaps when I see her walking by,
Infinite suppleness in her body’s sway.
I often fear that some malicious djinn
May envy her beauty, and wish to do her harm.
(Passion - Cilmi Boodhari)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Winds that possess the power of speech
Are something new in this world, perhaps,
But you must swear to me, O Wind, by the Everlasting One
That you will receive the impress of my words!
Indeed I would have gone to the sailing ships
And handed them my letters in a packet
But ships may tarry on their journeys
And nights may pass before they come to port,
So it is you, O Wind, whom I have chosen,
You who have the speed I demand.
Swear to me then by the Everlasting One
That you will receive the impress of my words!
You pass above the ground,
Above the settlements of men,
Never resting, you run and run
As if sent by God on everlasting errands.
Weariness is not for you,
It is only the living whose breath gives out.
I have heard that other men have stepped forward
To claim the girl on whom my mind was set-
Wind, swear to me by the Everlasting One
That you will carry my words through the air!
Daroole is where I found my solace,
That is the place that you must find,
And nothing must stop you -
Not bad roads, nor screens of matting
Muuse knows the country well
And he knows where she is to be found.
There is a man who looks at her admiringly -
O this world is a precipitous mountain path!
Tell her that stone houses and walls would have felt the pain
Tell her that termite hills would have sprouted green grass
If they had but heard these words of mine!
(The Messenger - Cilmi Boodhari)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the camels come back thirsty
From many nights of grazing in the Haud,
They are brought to a halt just short of the well
While a youth sings, trying to keep them calm.
But they want to press forward, for already they hear
The "hoobay! hoobay!" of the watering-chant.
I am like that when I hear you say "Hodan"!
Her name seems to you so simple,
But to me it brings grief and woe.
I shall never give her up,
Not till the day they tread earth into her grave.
Rapt in a deceitful trance
I thought I was sleeping by her side,
But it was a jinn, not she herself,
A Jinn made in the image of her sister.
I tried to catch her by the hand
But the place by my side was empty -
I found I was striving in vain
For there was no one there.
I tossed from side to side, then suddenly awoke -
I rumpled my bed like a prowling lion,
I attacked the bedclothes and pounded them,
As if it were they that had caused my loss.
Like a hero against whom men have combined
I covered my face, all but my defiant eyes.
I was humbled, like a boy who could not save from robbers,
The herd entrusted to his care.
I felt disgraced, as a woman does
When the words "I divorce you" are said to her.
It is degrading to yearn for what you cannot have.
Alas, alas, what disaster has befallen me!
("A Vain Love - Cilmi Boodhari")
