CHAPTER 2
Lie Down in the Love Hospital
(Or, How Love Finds its Voice)
“They come to me because I am their doctor. Somali poets have a different role than the poets of Western people. We are doctors. There are so many people who come to you and tell you their love problems. You, the poet, are a boon of experience, because you have the stories of a lot of people. So you listen, and you consult them. And if they have very serious…what we call ‘serious serious’ love problems, then you must make a poem. So, you see, I am their love doctor, isn’t it?”
Xasan Daahir Ismaaciil “Weedhsame”
This chapter traces the process by which intimate and otherwise unspeakable love experiences become voiced song, through a multivocal collaboration that requires input from a poet, melody-writer and vocalist – and an otherwise mute love-sufferer who seeks “treatment” among artists. Incorporating reflections from artists active in both the pre- and post-war period, it specifically documents the making of one specific song, “Qirasho” (Confession)
Page / 63-66
Lie Down in the Love Hospital
This chapter takes its title from a poem by Weedhsame called “Cusbitaalka boholyowga” (The hospital of longing), which was broadcast on Voice of America. Listen to Weedhsame discuss and recite this poem here
The pill of love
Take it to get better
Taxlii [blessed holy water] of the suffering
Drink three cups per day
The counter-charm of the sufferer
Wear it on the wrist and neck
If the disease will not leave
In the love hospitals
Lie down [to get away] from your frustrations
[In the] hospital of longing
The patients are weak
The people thinner than a toothbrush stick
Being awake [through the night] is normal
The syringe [IV drip] is the cuud
The food is qaraami
You wear only red clothes
Other clothes you would not wear
There are sheikhs in the area
Giving famous lessons
Their first lesson [medication] is
The person who is not your destiny
Don’t criticize [them]
When she gets divorced
Or his hair turns grey
You may get married
Don’t criticize the love
Page / 70-86
Giving Love Voice: A Collaborative Undertaking
“The poet is the one making the words, another makes the music, another is singing, another makes the rhythm. All of these things are related. You can’t do it by yourself. If you just compose it and put it up it’s just useless. Just like the human body, there is a relationship between them.” Xasan Ganey
A recording of ‘Qirasho’, with vocals by Ubax Faxmo, lyrics by Weedshame, melody by Karoone and music by Subxanyo
Qof baan ahay aawadaa
Qandhada caashaqa qabtoo
Haddana waan kaa qarshaa
Xishood igu qaydan baa
Afkii qufuloo xidhoo
Runtaan ka qaloonayaa
Markaan warkaa qeex idhaa
Dhambaalkana aan qoraa
Billee uu qoonsadaa
Qorshaha ku gunaanadaa
Maantaba aan kuu qirtoo
Qasdiga soo jeediyee
Qareenkii ila dhashoow
Adoo qoys iga dhigtoo
I qaabila baan rabaa!
Qoonkayga intaan damqaan
Ilmada dhaayuhu qubaan
Haddana ku qaboojiyaa
Wadnaha qiiroonayaa
“Qiruu caashaqa” i yidhi
Qudhuna way maagaysaa
Duruufaha igu qasbaa
“Indhaha isku qabo” i lee
Miyaan qawl iyo dhawaaq
Qummaatiya odhan karaa
Maantaba aan kuu qirtoo
Qasdiga soo jeediyee
Qareenkii ila dhashoow
Adoo qoys iga dhigtoo
I qaabila baan rabaa!
I am a person, who
Has caught the fever of love
And yet conceal it
This deep-rooted shyness I carry
Has sealed the mouth shut [Discovering] the truth [his response] worries me
As I attempt to bring clarity to my feelings The letter I wrote
Perhaps it will cause him grief
I conclude the matter
Let me confess today my wishes
And suggest my feelings
My close relative, born of my kin
Make me your spouse [lit. “family”]
I want you to receive me!
I reopen my wound
Tears spill from my eyes
And I use them as a balm to my wound
This sad heart says to me:
“Reveal your love plight”
Though my inner voice warns me otherwise And circumstances say to me:
“Shut your eyes” [i.e., accept your situation] With words or speech
I can’t express it clearly
Let me confess today my wishes
And suggest my feelings
My close relative, born of my kin
Make me your spouse [lit. “family”]
I want you to receive me!