Jag hittade en engelsk översättning online och läste lite ur inledningen:
http://www.poetrytranslation.org/poems/392/Clarity
Citat:
I’ve still not admitted defeat,
nor have I withdrawn:
that high inspiration,
that talent I was endowed with,
has not been discarded.
Its milk-camel’s capacity to fill
the dairy pail is undiminished –
apart from my deliberate delay,
there is no difference in me.
So I have a few points to make
to deal with the spreaders of doubt.
When men dedicate to the struggle
and determine to fulfil their duty;
when they ready themselves for the charge,
amass the finest thoroughbreds;
when the reins are on the racers,
I never step aside.
Gaarriye, in this arena
where the chess game unfolds –
well worth the watching, promising play –
the innocent delight in alliterative war,
our Deelley with its two sides,
where tactic is met by counter-tactic –
and here’s where I put my piece.
These first points are just the outline
to the real issue, the whole shape of which
this poem will address.
When our debate gets heated
loopholes come to light:
that damage done by exploiting
the bitterness of tribes, the anguish of clans,
which opens gaping wounds,
divisions between the people.
When the hyenas descend
upon shallow graves
and the shunned bodies of the dead,
that rotten meat nothing else would touch,
and pull out the pulp from their bellies,
the flux and the phlegm,
and scatter it all around,
the people are dumbstruck,
the fresh air is defiled,
miasma fills every nostril.
Then I am that prediction
of clouds still to come
bringing a downpour
that will cover the whole country.
....
