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Ay amarg yaghagh umarg numarg
d umarg n umarg umarg
nudên ussan lid ur nufa
nafd ghar amagur
nufad tilluna munt, tilluna smmidênt
urrint awa s tghwmirt ar allant f uàlam
Isuyas fussin s tuga ssikin abrdak
tagdêrurt nettat ur d imik lâh srs idukan
matta gh ayad iguran azmz imnudâ fellagh
irmi wafud tawada
yagwi wanli ay iswingim
ikka kullu timizar
s ufus d uberdak d tallunt
mla sawaln ighwrman
mla sawaln isuyyas
mlaka sawaln inagan s mara mad zran
a yan ikcemn isuyas awal aygan aqqryan
taguri nttat zund tazzit, agmmay wa tittar
ighak irmi wafud
yan ddar ur illi wamud
mqqar tsilit lbarûd
ur ak sul sslkmn i yat

ghilli gh imil irkz uàlam ura asul issmghay
mqqar a fllas allan ignwan ighzran
mqqar a gis kkatn ngh a gis tthîn ikaliwn s izûran

a amarg... a amarg...

matta ghayad d iguran azmz imnudâ fllagh
manzakwn urawn sul tsllagh
id is yazûm ils awal
negh agwdal ay iga igha ismurig
ara afus kis kra f iman nk
bbi izakarn ghilli ikerf
trzêm isekraf lligh immutl
dîd mad illan f wul nk
herd amssu herd akal
a gwma ard ifaw uzal
ard a sawaln lamwadin
Kksat agh imik f tasa
ssakat anezgum i wakal
wac yant itghawaln yawit
adagh nkcem s ubaraz
hayagh nekcem s ubaraz
adawnt neqs a ttiyat
imma tili d giwnt nufi urk slkmnt i yat
an ssili tizza d iwaliwn
ar nkkat s wammagn wiyad
ar ntterkaz d uhiad
amr azawar n yan urtn righ ula art nesiggel

àemdan yan mmu tmman iwaliwn ilîh as ttiyat
mqqar yuki gh tuzzûmt n takat ar gis itterkaz
a ghassan yuf umarg ns làmmart ns

a amarg... a amarg...

asad lkwmmiyyat qdat i takat
wanna n ighman gh assad ur gitngh iga
hucatasn awa s ifassen ad ssn ma nga
ur nra ad neg wiyyâd ahiyyâd a nga
berdkat asn awa s udâr ad akwzn ma nga
ur nra ad ng wiyyâd amazigh a nga
ssussat awa ssussatst ad yissn ma nga
wanna ur issn mad nettini ur gitngh iga.

Yuba, 04/2002

 

 

 

Nostalgia

Nostalgia for our past
For songs of our past
I regret not to live in the past
I have arrived too late
I found silent drums in the corner
Crying for dancers who had deserted the place
The dust of the dancing shoes disappeared
What happened? Does the world become harsh?
My legs are weak from walking
My brain is weak from thinking
I travelled all over the world clapping,
dancing and drumming
If villages were talking,
If dancing places were storytellers,
If witnesses told you about what they saw

In dancing places, speech turns to rifles,
Words are swords and sounds are stabs
But, when you are old, guns have no use.
The dancing place is barren
Although there is a river,
Although there is vegetation.

a amarg... a amarg...

What happened? Does the world become harsh?
Where are you? I do not hear you anymore
Are you allowed to talk? Give me you hand
Break your chains and show what you have in your heart
Dance until the call of the morning
Make us happy and move languor from the earth
I am on stage to sing my songs
Because those I found are none sense
I will mix words and knives and I will dance
There is no use to fight or to blame
Pity for those who lost their words
Pity for those who forgot their songs
Even if they are dancing in fire
Today, their songs worth more than their lives

a amarg... a amarg...

Light a fire
Today, the ones who are not here are not with us
Clap your hands to show them who we are
We do not want to be what others are,
We are vagabounds
we are wandering
Dance to prove them who we are
We do not want to be what others are,
we are Amazigh poeple
Make fun to show them who we are
The ones who do not understand our words,
are not from us.

Yuba, April 2002 (Translated by A. Ait Hoummad)