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Grant wrote:Poisonous,
I have been on this forum since 2005. If you don't know the answer to your question by now you haven't been following.
-Look how beautiful my curly hair is
-how majestic I look when wrapped from head to foot in my snow-white or jungle coloured tobe
-In my kerrier, my wife, my dear slave, does all the manual work, while tending my offspring, and woe to her if she forgets
to prepare my evening meal. The jeedal (whip) shall then have its turn to make her remember for next day. In
-such a state is any man happier than I?
Amethyst wrote:Warsan_Star_Muslimah wrote:Amethyst and Black Velvet,
marry nin duqa, then you can outrun him.
lol....macaaneey, I aint no kunta kinte, and I sure as hell aint no Toby! There are no pyramids being built here, this aint no ancient Rome...Xoog maxaaba meesha keenay? Maxaa u dilaa, uu ii ceerceersanaa, ama biyo ugu shubaa, (like ismahaan above) why not opt for nin wanaag naga dhaxeyo, oo aan ku qanacsanahay, in the first place?. Some people set themselves up for failure from the getgo. Btw, I consider my own brother my cid, waxaa kale waa iska extra. He can beat his children up all he wants, kuwaas bii wax isku yihiin ee.
Ahmed-Gurey wrote:That is the classic poem of Hassan Heile, a 19th century Warsangeli poet.
I will post the actual Somali lyrics.
The British indeed resented the weapons and ammunition coming through the Port of Laasqoray. This direct assistance of the Mullah's army by the sultan resulted in the bombardment of his palace by the Italians.
Too bad there is no recorded version of it:
Will you see a man? Then behold me!
I am a Somali, as perfect in size and form
as Adam was, after God had breathed
into him his immortal soul. Look how
beautiful my curly hair is, and how majestic
I look when wrapped from head to
foot in my snow-white or jungle coloured
tobe, although there be sometimes only
one pie (a small piece of money) tied to
it. My house is the desert, and I am
born a free man. Free as the wind. I
know neither king nor master. I am as
Adam was, my own master and king. In
the jungle I tend my camels and sheep;
my only labour is to watch them feed.
In my kerrier, my wife, my dear slave,
does all the manual work, while tending
my offspring, and woe to her if she forgets
tp prepare my evening meal. The
jeedal (whip) shall then have its turn to
make her remember for next day. In
such a state is any man happier than I?
