Fredagsdiktet: Dear Moon

Bak rosa burkaer og gule mullahskjegg snublet jeg over ukas fredagsdikt. I bloggen til somalieren kan man nemlig finne mye velskrevet, interessant og morsomt – og i likhet med enkelte andre (kremt), har hun sansen for å dele diktperler med leserne sine.
Denne uka postet hun et dikt av Warsan Shire, og jeg falt pladask. Jeg har lest flere av diktene hennes, og anbefaler dem på det groveste.

Warsan Shire is a Kenyan born Somali poet and writer who is based in London. Born in 1988, she is an artistic activist who has read her work all over the world, more recently South Africa, Italy and Germany. Her poetry has been translated into Italian, Spanish and Portuguese.

She believes in healing through narrative and art. She works with refugee communities in the UK through poetry workshops to document their stories of journey and trauma.

Hvis du vil lese mer av Warsan Shire, kan du for eksempel besøke bloggen hennes.

Dear Moon

We blame you for floods

for the flush of blood

for men who are also wolves

and even though you could pull

the tide in by its hair

we tell people that we walked all

over you

we blame you for the night

for the dark

for the ghosts

you cold unimaginable thing

following us home,

we use you

to see each others frail

naked bodies beneath your blue light,

we let you watch; you

swollen against the glass

breath a halo of steam

as we move against one another

wet and desperate

like fish under

a waterlogged sky.

(Warsan Shire)