የጥቁር ፀሀፍት (black Poets&Autors)ስራዎች ማሰባሰቢያ

[ቡናማ]

ውድ ወዳጆች
በዚህ አምድ ስር ምርጥ የጥቁር ደራሲያንና ገጣሚያንን ስራዎች መለዋወጥ እንችል ዘንድ በማሰብ መድረኩን ከላይ ባለው ርእስ ከፍቼዋለሁ ::አመርቂ ትምህርታዊ መልእክቶችን እንደምንለዋወጥበት ተስፋ አለኝ ::
ለመነሻም ያህል ይህችን ይዤ ቀርቤአለሁ ::
[/b]

BRADA (Brother)
----------------
You an me
we brada
becass
we have no ada

Wan we fight
you call me stront
me get mad
me break your scont

Bat...

You an me
still brada
becass
we have no ada


Written by Kenneth Rellum

በወዳጅነት እንቀጥል
ቡናማ

[አኒታ]

SELAM>.Hola.. Greetings!... I don't know much about black Poets&Autors but here is my Poet.. hope you'll like it!

THE GUY IN THE GLASS(MIRROR)
when you get what you want in your struggle for you'r self
And the world makes you king of a day,
Then go to the mirror and look at your self
And see what the guy has to say.
For it isn't your mother,your father your wife
Whose judgement on you must pass.
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the guy staring back from the glass.
He's the fellow to please,never mind all the rest
For he's with you clean to the end;
And you'v passed your most dangerous & difficult test
if the guy in the glass is your friend.
you may be like jack Horner and chisel a plum
And think you are a wonderful guy,
But the guy in the glass said your a bum
if you can't look straight in the eye.
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass;
But the final reward will be heartaches and tears
IF YOU"VE CHEATED THE GUY IN THE GLASS..
guess who wrote this....
Anonymous hope you can learn something from it...
cheers...
With much respect,
Anita Bonita
_________________
CHEERS BEKERARI..

[ቁም ነገር 2]

thanks for this topic

Chinua Achebe a Nigerian Novelist has contributed a lot for the black litrature. Some of his books are -

Things fall apart (most widly read) 1958
No longer at east 1960
Beware, Soul Brother 1971
Christmas in Biafra 1973
Morning Yet on Creation Day 1975
_________________
respect yourself and others will respect you

[ቡናማ]

ወዳጆች
ግድ የላችሁም -ይህቺ አምዳችን ዕድገት በዕድገት እያከለች መሄድዋ እሙን መሆኑ አይቀርም ::
ለዛሬ ይዤ የቀረብኩዋትን እነሆ !

To Egypt
---------

Where are my People?
When will your tales unfurl,
and let the white world know
You were once my mother
and I
your soft kinky headed girl...
Tell them-
White America, I mean,
How you built me a strong black nation
from a vibrant black seed!
Tell them that my fathers,
the Pharaohs, were black.
Tell the white world
let them know Hannibal,
was my brother.
And that the temples soothed in blackness
were the toys of a
foolish girl.

Written by Gloria Davis

በወዳጅነት እንቀጥል
ቡናማ

[ቡናማ]

Here I am one more time!


I am the smoke King.
I am black,
I am darkening with song,
I am hearkening to wrong;
I will be black as blackness can,
The blacker the mantle the mightier the man.

From W.E.B. Du Bois

በወዳጅነት እንቀጥል
ቡናማ

[ቁም ነገር 2]

እነሆ አንድ ግጥም
------Butterfly------
-----Chinua Achebe-----

Speed is violence
Power is violence
Weight is violence

The butterly seeks safety in lightnes
In weightless, undulating flight

But at a crossroads where mottled light
From trees falls on a brash new highway
Our convergent territories meet

I come power-packed enough for two
And the gentle butterfly offers
Itself in bright yellow sacrifice
Upon my hard silicon shield.
አክባሪያችሁ
ቁም ነገር 2
_________________
respect yourself and others will respect you

[ቁም ነገር 2]

here comes Achebe again
Knowing robs us of wonder.

Had it not ripped apart
the fearful robes of primordial Night
to steal the force that crafted horns
on doghead and sowed insurrection
overnight in the homely beak
of a hen; had reason not given us
assurance that day will daily break
and the sun's array return to disarm
night's fantastic figurations--
each daybreak
would be garlanded at the city gate
and escorted with royal drums
to a stupendous festival
of an amazed world.

One day
after the passage of a dark April storm
ecstatic birds followed its furrows
sowing songs of daybreak though the time
was now past noon, their sparkling
notes sprouting green incantations
everywhere to free the world
from harmattan death.

But for me
the celebration is make-believe;
the clamorous change of season
will darken the hills of Nsukka
for an hour or two when it comes;
no hurricane will hit my sky--
and no song of deliverance.

አክባሪያችሁ
ቁም ነገር 2
_________________
respect yourself and others will respect you

[ቁም ነገር 2]

Wole Soyinka is the first African Nobel price winner in litreture
Dedication
Wole Soyinka

for Moremi, 1963

Earth will not share the rafter's envy; dung floors
Break, not the gecko's slight skin, but its fall
Taste this soil for death and plumb her deep for life

As this yam, wholly earthed, yet a living tuber
To the warmth of waters, earthed as springs
As roots of baobab, as the hearth.

The air will not deny you. Like a top
Spin you on the navel of the storm, for the hoe
That roots the forests plows a path for squirrels.

Be ageless as dark peat, but only that rain's
Fingers, not the feet of men, may wash you over.
Long wear the sun's shadow; run naked to the night.

Peppers green and red-child-your tongue arch
To scorpion tail, spit straight return to danger's threats-
Yet coo with the brown pigeon, tendril dew between your lips.

Shield you like the flesh of palms, skyward held
Cuspids in thorn nesting, insealed as the heart of kernel-
A woman's flesh is oil-child, palm oil on your tongue

Is suppleness to life, and wine of this gourd
From self-same timeless run of runnels as refill
Your podlings, child, weaned from yours we embrace

Earth's honeyed milk, wine of the only rib.
Now roll your tongue in honey till your cheeks are
Swarming honeycombs-your world needs sweetening, child.

Camwood round the heart, chalk for flight
Of blemish-see? it dawns!-antimony beneath
Armpits like a goddess, and leave this taste

Long on your lips, of salt, that you may seek
None from tears. This, rain-water, is the gift
Of gods-drink of its purity, bear fruits in season.

Fruits then to your lips: haste to repay
The debt of birth. Yield man-tides like the sea
And ebbing, leave a meaning of the fossilled sands.

ቁም ነገር
_________________
respect yourself and others will respect you

[ቡናማ]

ጤና ይስጥልኝ ውድ ቁም ነገር 2
Your Contribution to this Topic fosters our Hope that we will have much to learn and share one to eachother! Keep it up man! በአማርኛ አንቺታ አንተታ አልያም አንቱታ ማስቀደም ይኑርብኝ አይኑርብኝ ቀይዲው ጠፍቶብኝ ነውና በባቢሎንኛ የተንተፋተፍኩት ለጉራማይሌው ሠላምታዬ ይቅርታ ! የብዕር ስም ባብዛኛው ጾታ አልባ መሆኑን በስተመሐሉ መረዳቴም እየበዛልኝ ነው ::

ላሁኑ ይህችን ላዋጣ ::


Take Tools Our Strength...
................................................

Take tools, our strength to break chains
and locks of containment and oppression.
Look-open eyes,
see images. Black images-Beauty images,
cornbread souls and African dust.
Strike blows,death blows.
Be free.
We are beautiful,
Winners.

written by Gerald L. Simmons, Jr.

በወዳጅነት እንቀጥል
ቡናማ

[ቁም ነገር 2]

ዉድ ቡናማ አመሰግናለሁ ቤትህን እጅግ ነው የወደድኩት :: አሁን የማቀርበው በሱዋህሊኛ ተጽፈው ወደ እንግሊኛ የተተረጎሙ ግጥሞችን ነው ::
-------(Swifa za Mahaba)--------
----In Praise of Love----

Give me a writing board of Indian wood,
ink and a precious pen,
let me praise love for you.
It has entered my heart
forsooth, oh pupil of my eye,
you are like cool antimony.
I will care for you, come to me,
like my eldest child,
your love is not half as strong as mine.
Let me praise love for you
let me tell you what I feel,
so that you can look into my heart.
My heart is full of love,
if it had a lid,
I would open it for you.
For you I would open it,
so that you would know my love,
it is bursting my inmost being.
It is splitting my inside,
and yet I feel no pain,
so much do I love you.
Joy is the fruit of love,
when my purpose
[to make you love me]
is accomplished
I will give you a present for life.
I will not leave you all my life,
until death may follow,
may we live in mutual affection.

ቁም ነገር 2
_________________
respect yourself and others will respect you

[ቁም ነገር 2]

--------(Nimechoka)--------
----I Am Tired----


I have arrived, receive me,
do not change your feelings,
please do agree to my request,
I am tired of my lonely state.
My heart is racing inside me,
for I cannot see your face
come quickly, shining one,
I, your friend, am tired.
What I am telling you is true,
listen to me, your lover,
I am suffering pain
I am tired of waiting for you.
I tell you, and it is no joke,
my dearest one, I need you;
if you possibly can, come to me,
I am tired of crying in loneliness.

ያፈቀረውን ለብቻው መጠበቅ ለሰለቸው
_________________
respect yourself and others will respect you

[ዶማው 2005]

አሪፍ ነው ቁምነገር , ቡናም ...

i got 12 here

Why



Why do we wear
Our pants hanging low
Like ghetto-ish bums
In a circus freak show


Why do we curse
And cuss like we do
And talk in Ebonics
Like the slaves use to do


Over four hundred years
Of shame and disgrace
We use the "N" word
Like no other race


Why do we leave
Our young ones alone
No family like structure
No house to call home


Why can't we prosper
Like Immigrants do
Who came here with nothing
And pave their way through


Why do we live
Such drug hungry lives
With gangsters and thugs
Packing guns and sharp knives


We seem to enjoy
Life on the streets
We work those slave jobs
Where pay is dirt-cheap


We live a life style
Of roach broken homes
Where trash and graffiti
And rats seem to roam


We don't get involve
In political laws
Nor do we vote out
Laws that have flaws


We're exploiting our music
With our sexual drive
Degrading our women
And destroying their lives


Our schools become jails
That we seem to fill
Like thieves in the night
We learn how to steal


So why can't we learn
Constructible skills
And walk the right path
To conquer all hills


Why can't we start
A new kind of trend
As Doctors and Scholars
And Builders of men


Why can't we sharpen
Our minds and technique
And show the whole world
That we are unique


Why can't we come
Together as one
So No one can say
That we were born dumb


Why can't we break
This bondage we keep
This hole that's been dug
So low and so deep


Why must we feel
It's been too many years
Wearing these chains
Of blood sweat and tears


And why can't we send
Our kids off to college
Its always been known
That strength comes from knowledge


We are destine to lose
This destruction of doom
The road of dead ends
These shadows of gloom


I prayer we could change
These things we do wrong
For it's tough being Black
And hard to stay strong


Written by David Farrar

[ባቲ]

ሰላም ለሁላችሁ

We Real Cool

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz Jun. We
Die soon.

(By Brooks, Gwendolyn)
ቻዎ
_________________
SaQ _Be _SaQ.....That's what I wish 4 all of Us
ስምየ ውዕቱ ክንዴ ባቲ

[ቁም ነገር 2]

ዶሜክስ - እውነት እኔንም ግራ የሚገባኝ ነገር ነው :: በተለይ ደግሞ እዚህ ኢትዮጵያ ውስጥ ያሉ ትርጉሙ ያልገባቸው ወጣቶች ለምን እንደዛ እንደሚሆኑ አይገባኝም
--------(Uzee)--------

----Old Age----

Youth is a sweet thing,
and it is so dear to us,
here in my limbs I too
had it only yesterday,
with plenty of blood,
though today I am no longer a (??)
Alas, it does not last,
my good friend youth!
My hair is all grey,
in my mouth there are no long teeth,
I walk like a drunkard,
my legs have no longer str (??)
now I see it, youth is like that,
it goes and does not come back.
Alas, it does not last,
my good friend youth!
My sun has set,
and I can see the stars,
when you look at my head,
you see no black hairs,
as if they had been wiped away,
or pulled out roots and all
Alas, it does not last,
my good friend youth!
I get confused in my words,
I keep chewing on my (??)
I have collected wisdom,
but my health is not good
this life is a miserly thing,
you get this but you don't get that.
Alas, it does not last,
my good friend youth!

ቁም ነገር 2
_________________
respect yourself and others will respect you

[ቁም ነገር 2]

ውይ በጣም ረጅም ነው መጥኔውን ይስጣችሁ
-------------Kiswahili-----------
-------The Swahili Language------


Messenger, rise quickly,
don't linger, don't dawdle,
I have an errand for you,
carry my question to the addressee
so that I may receive a good answer,
one that gives peace because
it contains the truth:
I ask, for what sort of people
is Swahili the language?
There are many languages in the world,
pronounced in different ways,
and all the languages on earth
have people who belong to them,
in a special place
Not only in India, not only in
Europe and America
[but everywhere] has the Almighty
created language.
I ask...
The Kamba have their own language
which has been there since their genesis;
and the British too [or the Europeans]
have their own several languages;
and the Meru people have their own,
and the Somali are a different people again
and so they have their own language.
And which language is ours?
The Indians have Hindi
for various tribes,
and for the Nandi there is
the Nandi language,
that is their own speech;
and different again are the
people of Usambara,
they have their own original language.
Tell me, for what sort of people
is Swahili the language?
Asking is not stupidity;
do not think that my question is easy,
I am searching for light,
that we may shake the minds awake,
that is why I made a poem
in order to communicate this problem.
Let it be explained to me,
for what sort of people
is the Swahili language?
One often hears
of this Swahili language, that
there isn't anyone
for whom it is his own language.
And others argue
that it does have original speakers [owners].
that is why I am saying,
for what sort of people
Is Swahili...
The Masai has his home language
ever since the beginning of Creation,
and the people of the island
of Socotra have theirs;
the people of the Seychelles
are different again;
and the Nilotes have their languages,
which are different from those
of the Ragoli people.
Tell me, for what sort of people...
And all the others
have different languages
and some know the languages of their neighbors,
which means studying a second language;
but they still have their own languages
ever since their origin.
Tell me, for what sort of people...
Now that which I am asking,
from those who know this,
the people of Kenya and Tanganyika
and that means those who live everywhere,
give me a true answer,
let us not hide the truth from one another!
Tell me, for what sort of people...
I have thought a great deal
to solve this problem,
and I have realized that this language
must have an origin;
because every word
has a beginning for its roots.
So I say, for what sort of people
is Swahili...
And if this is not so,
as I have solved it,
show me how it is,
make the truth clear,
that I may know how it really is,
that we may help each other
out of the difficulty!
May it be discovered for what sort of people
is Swahili...
And if there arrives
a person who can solve my problem,
I beg of him one thing:
let us talk together in an intelligent manner,
let us not show each other miracles
[throw dust in each other's eyes]
[by saying] something that is not acceptable.
So tell me, for what sort of people
is Swahili...
Finish, this is the end,
my name is as follows,
Ahmad, son of Nassir,
and Bhalo, that is my second surname,
a famous poet,
a lover and speaker of the truth.

ቡኔክስ የት ጠፋህ ?
_________________
respect yourself and others will respect you