Bitter and Sweet - 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 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,

It sustains the weak and guides them.

But the other is a slashing, cutting knife –

As sharp to the taste as myrrh,

As bitter as the aloe.

Do not suppose 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 seclude 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 of 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 the path –

You’re free to make a choice!

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Axmed Ismaciil Diriye "Qaasim" (died 2006) Somalia

Translated by B. W. Andrzejewski with Sheila Andrzejewski

Source: African Poems