Driss R. Temsamani

The Sounds of Bladi
By Driss R. Temsamani

A song, a conversation, a meal, or just the feel. Nothing puts out the fire; nothing quenches my thirst; nothing like a breeze against my skin to clear my mind for me to sing.

I crossed the oceans to be away from you, only to realize that I miss you. Away, I will always be a stranger but when I go home, like magic, all my worries you take.

I cry and I cry, wondering why so lonely I feel. My worries, I want to forget, and lonely, I don’t want to be anymore.

I call on you, Morocco, land of my people, land of my ancestors, land of the proud and the happy. Rise, Morocco, rise. Come and listen: today, I sing for you.

When I feel down and nothing can change my mood, I beg you to make me tea, I beg you to let me be loose and break free. Nothing makes me so alive as the music of Bladi; Morocco land of Melhoun, Shaabi, and Gharnati.

Is that Rap music I hear? Please, put on some Stati or Benani. It has been a long time since I felt happy. Nothing makes me so alive as the music of Bladi; Morocco land of Melhoun, Shaabi, and Gharnati.

Summertime, moonlight and Rai music, Lah, lah, don’t stop. I want to hear some Mami or Berkani. Strangers and friends, everyone smiling, sitting in a café, sipping on some tea and no one is wahdani. Nothing makes me so alive as the music of Bladi; Morocco land of Melhoun, Shaabi, and Gharnati.

I saw her at my cousin’s wedding and my body lit on fire. I almost lost my mind if it was not for Shakara.
He said, “Bent bladi ajbouni aynek,” and she looked at me and smiled. That’s when my heart started racing and my mind went wild. Nothing makes me so alive as the music of Bladi; Morocco land of Melhoun, Shaabi, and Gharnati.

The night was almost over until someone popped a tape and fired, “Dorbiha ya shibani dorbiha!” they all screamed until they got tired. The crowed formed a circle and was never quiet until the arous and arousa came out and to everyone smiled. Nothing makes me so alive as the music of Bladi; Morocco land of Melhoun, Shaabi, and Gharnati.
May god protects you Morocco. Land of my people, land of the proud and the happy.