weep for Adonais-he is dead! O,
weep for Adonais!
though our tears Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

-Shelley

I

O, death, may your name perish!
Though we are all bound
Deathward
Godward
Homeward
Death
Our inevitable host

Noseless one Death
Is Yamyam really no more with us
In the light of the living
Is Yamyam
The genius that wore the mantle
That covers the shame of us naked Somalis
Really laid low down
In the grave I weep for
Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

II

Dear dusty grave Ages ago,
The Sayyid And now
This morning Dumb with grief
Gone gaga with grief
Am I giving sorrow sword words
Over the grave Where my friend, Yamyam lies
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

III

O, history!
How you hijack whore and hajji and hakim
How you never grow up
How you never come of age
How you never age
How you never act your age
How you always rage
How you always hog the stage
Did you finally overthrow
Your Yamyam who girded up his loin cloth
To trace your blood soaked Somali steps
How did our Galol tree
Yamyam
Deserve to disappear without a trace
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

IV

O, Gob tree!
People pick up your scattered berries
But pray tell me
How does one get over
How does one sleep
How does one pick the brain of Yamyam
When death has just bashed in
The teeming brain of Yamyam
Who had yet to glean so much more
From our Somali years of yore
From our Somali years of lore
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

V

O, thankless Muses!
Where is Yamyam
The wit that loved you so
Your right hand man
Your factotum
Your gofer
Your must-go-to man
Whom Death has just removed to the hereafter
In your daze
In your amaze
Dress anyhow
Wear your epaulets of aghast grief
Sing your despair & dejection
In mighty ululating long lofty lines of alliteration
Standing hair on end everywhere
Amidst goose pimples
And to this death-tolling knell of mine
Beat your drums
At every town square
At every sheltering tree
For Yamyam is no more
And shall never return
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

VI

O, pen!
Seize up
Freeze
Thaw no more
Flow no more
Scour
Scratch
Range over the alphabet
Enter into your annals' archives
Lamenting lays
Acquainting
Muslims & Monkey infidels
With your tears
With your fears
For Yamyam is no more
And shall never return
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

VII

O, wisdom weep!
Wise up
Rise up
Bite your nether lip
Wake up the Muses with your wailing
Lament
O, you literate ones
Who labor in ordered word orchards
O, you purveyors of our Somali folk culture
To alien tongues
Let the word go forth
Let the world know of our severed Somali orphaned tongue
Let the world wear sackcloth & ashes
For Yamyam is no more
And shall never return
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

VIII

O, Gob tree!
People pick up your scattered berries
But pray tell me
How does one get over
How does one sleep
How does one pick the brain of Yamyam
When death has just bashed in
The teeming brain of Yamyam
Who had yet to glean so much more
From our Somali years of yore
From our Somali years of lore
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

IX

O, Yamyam!
Master of Urania!
The ewe constellation lost luster and drooped
The moon sloped and sank Into the swallowing sea
Into the valley of the shadow of death
When death had halted to hijack you to the hereafter I
weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

X

O, you sounding sighing sea!
Suspire for Yamyam's soothing songs
O, you crawling clamor-fingered breakers
Break
Rage & roil
Rock & roll on
Deep dark black teal blue ocean
Upon your shingled shores
For your Sheikh Yamyam has just quit your shores for sure
Convulse & swing you mighty swells
O, you teeter-tottering towering torrents
O, you seesawing waves
Hop on your wild white horses
Let loose your rock-splitting surf
Split spit splutter
Splash your spume & spoondrift
Way out of your confines
For Yamyam is no more
And shall never return
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

XI

O, grave!
O, you worms of the grave!
O, you termites of the tomb!
If you dare boast a conscience
Or a hero amongst you
Grant Yamyam
This Somali bard
This Somali pard
Peace
From your roaring razor wrath
From your licking chops
From your grinding grinders
For you have been feasting
For hundreds of soggy seasons
On corpses
And can't be hungry now
For this honored guest of yours
For this Yamyam
For this peerless immortal
Somali swain of the Muses
Whose brain teemed
With ancient Somali lore
With the wisdom of Punt's yore
O, grave!
I commend to you now
His shrouded body
That lies now
In an untimely sleep
In your dread death abode
In your death bed
O, you worms of the grave!
O, you termites of the tomb!
Grant him peace
For Yamyam's last burning gasp
His last rasping breath
His last death rattle prostrated him
And needs now
Neither your gnawing
Nor your nudging nuzzle
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

XII

As for me & my house
We will sing abroad
In a rue of runes
Our grievous loss & lamentation
To all those who girded up
To defy Death & Degradation
To defeat Despair & Darkness
To denounce Disgrace & Dishonesty
In this Somali slaughter house
In this sad Somalia
In this mad Somalia
In this suicidal Somalia.
In this Kipling's Somalia of the
"Lesser breeds without the law
Half devil
Half child"
I weep for Yamyam-he is dead!
O, weep for Yamyam! though our tears
Thaw not the frost that binds so dear a head!

XIII

O, Allah!
Now
Upon Yamyam's soul
Mercy we all beseech
Upon Yamyam's spirit
Peace we all pray
Amen! Amiin!
O, Reader!
Now you say
The last amen T
he last amiin.

Mahamud Siad Togane

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