Togane: A case of plagiarism

[Suldaanka]

Plagiarism is defined as "the act of passing off as one's own the ideas or writings of another." In the world of academia, you have to provide references:

 

* If you use someone else's ideas, you should cite the source.

* If the way in which you are using the source is unclear, make it clear.

* If you received specific help from someone in writing the paper, acknowledge it.

 

This is what happens when you do not follow that simple rule of thumb, as the case of Togane's translation of the old and famous poem: "Sweetness and Bitterness - English version". This poem "Macaan iyo Qadhaadh - Somali version" is the original work of the Somali poet Ahmed Ismail Dirie better known as "Abwaan Qassim".

[AYOUB]

Suldanka from the title I think that's Togane's weird way of paying tribute to both Qaasim and Andrzejewski. Qaasim for his poetry and Andrzejewski for translating and writing about Somali poetry. But that's just my guess.

 

 

Here's how the Andrzejewskis translated Qaasims's Macaan iyo Qadhaadh.

 

 

Bitter and Sweet

 

 

Consider the aloe - how bitter is its taste!

 

Yet sometimes there wells up a sap so sweet

 

That it seems like honey in your mouth.

 

Side by side the sweet and bitter run

 

Just as they do, my friends, in me,

 

As I switch from sweet to bitter

 

And back to sweet again.

 

My two hands, right and left, are twins.

 

One twin gives food to strangers and to guests,

 

It sustains the weak and guides them.

 

But the other is a slashing, cutting knife -

 

As sharp to the taste as myrrh,

 

As bitter as the aloe.

 

Do not suppose I am the kind of man

 

Who walks along one path, and that path only.

 

I go one way, and seem a reasonable man,

 

I provoke no one, I have the best of natures -

 

I go another, and I'm obstinate and bold,

 

Striking out at others without cause.

 

Sometimes I seem a learned man of God

 

Who retreats in ascetic zeal to a seclude sanctuary -

 

I turn again and I'm a crazy libertine,

 

Sneakily snatching whatever I can get.

 

I am counted as one of the elders of the clan,

 

Esteemed for my wisdom, tact and skill in argument,

 

But within me there dwells a mere townee, too -

 

A no-good layabout he is, at that.

 

I'm a man whose gullet will allow no passage

 

For food that believers are forbidden to eat,

 

And yet I'm a pernicious, hardened thief -

 

The property of even the Prophet himself

 

Would not be safe from me.

 

I have my place among the holy saints,

 

I am one of the foremost of their leaders,

 

But at times I hold high rank in Satan's retinue,

 

And then my lords and masters are the jinns.

 

It's no good trying to weigh me up -

 

I can't be balanced on a pair of scales.

 

From this day to that my very colour changes -

 

Nay, I'm a man whose aspect alters

 

As morning turns to evening

 

And back once more to morning.

 

Muslims and infidels - I know their minds

 

And understand them through and through.

 

"He's ours!" the angels of Hell proclaim of me

"No, ours!" the angels of Heaven protest.

 

I have, then, all these striking qualities

 

Which no one can ignore -

 

But who can really know my mind?

 

Only a grey-head who has lived for many days

And learned to measure what men are worth.

 

And now, my friends, each man of you -

If either of the paths I follow

 

Takes your fancy and delights your heart,

 

Or even if you cannot bear to lose

 

The entertainment I provide,

 

Then come to me along the path -

 

You're free to make a choice!

 

Translated by, B. W. Andrzejewski with Sheila Andrzejewski

[Kowneyn]

WAXAN AHAY QADHAAD IYO MACAAN MEEL KU WADAYAAL

 

QAASIM WAS ON TO SOMETHING PROFOUND...

 

YEP, I THINK JAMHUURIYA NEWSPAPER'S DHANXIIR WOULD AGREE .

 

KOWNEYN

[Taqwa]

You Sure can say Qassim was a poet....intaan ayan ka xelaaay baah.

 

Mar hadday tolniimadii horiyo talo-wadaag diidey

Nin walbaa wuxuu taransadiyo tab iyo xeeshii dheh