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The Son of the Soil

The Son of the Soil


It’s time again to get up and for its sake
The cocks crow and the sparrows chirrup for daybreak
But what is there when the sun is so young
Untried for the grunge and grime of the day
As well as for the day, before I see the numberless teachers,
Numberless gods
Numberless assholes
Numberless sons of the soil etc?
It’s time to stay on for sometime.

Cigarettes and tobaccos are already set for a cordial reception
They make my day: No words will do, the first thing in the morning
All I want is them to be there by my bed.
If our early lunch is ready I should have a few morsel of rice
And I can go out like a loafer I’ve always been
And I can hang around with my mates in some street corner.

For once, for a day I do have the errands to run
For anything that people do I have to be a pain in their asses
Pick apart their craps; if not I’m incomplete
I feel the pain not to damn them, for once, a day
The kind of pain that resurfaces on downcast days
If not for this anathematising, how do I identify myself?
How do I call myself I’m the son of the soil? 

And how much are they working hard:
Doctors, engineers, lawyers, teachers, sex workers?
What do they got to do with me?
What do I get from their lives?
And everybody does it anyway; might there be exceptions
But it’s the only rule out here, to damn, to fuck off others
A loafer, it’s only important how can I break the rules of people
Haaire waataathee, haaidre waa maang-ngee.

If the buddies from the neighbourhood turn up, we can start,
The daily chores of the day are all set by default
Some grass from Saikul and some powder from Moreh
A bit of both or a bit of one of them will do;
All that we eat, all that we drink
All that we use, all that we have
If we die, if we are hurt
We have sworn in the name of the land
All’s in the name of the land.

If only the factor of happiness
If only there is money
I should do something worthy
But in life everything’s against me
Any case some that they make me laugh
Any case some that they make me cry
There’s nothing more to life.
There’s nothing to lose from life.
The street looks so serene
I should have gotten up sooner
Before the cocks and sparrows court the daybreak
Before our leaders smack their masters’ arses in foreign lands.


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