Naa Hoy

Naa hoy, naa hoy Mareekanay

Calankaatha heeso,

ani Soomaali baan ahay

 

Naa hoy, naa hoy Mareekanay

car soo dhawow

 

Dhibka iyo rabshathaa

dadkayna kadaa

 

Our words for your guns

are sticks and one:

Sticks because your weapons are as harmless

as the tongues you use to slander what black is.

Sticks because we build with

the helicopter carcasses you leave behind

when the bodies of your soldiers are spent.

Sticks because we’ve been scion-ed into a generation of re-growth

and with your shells we armor the freedom of our new birth.

 

Naa hoy, naa hooy…

 

One.

One because you could only ever murder one,

an individual never the struggle.

One because it’s no longer a question of solidarity,

for in our oppression, we become one.

One because the iron wrought with your one

holds in its hardened state the essence of genocide,

and with each fire, one, I hear the indigenous cries

that have been painted over with white lies.

And as your sticks and one, wound my brothers sides

(like your false image of Christ),

I too am to die, and our mixed blood will nourish the earth

and give birth to new growth that cries freedom in words of:

 

Naa hoy, naa hoy Mareekanay

calankaatha heeso,

ani Soomaali baan ahay

 

Naa hoy, naa hoy Mareekanay

car soo dhawow

 

Dhibka iyo rabshathaa

dadkayna kadaa