The Lingering Cold of a Moment Gone - Tsakar Dare da Ruwan Zufa

 i wake up soaked dragging my feet  my fingers finds behind the bathroom door selections of drying cloths, a white singlet full length gown, my favourite yellow slouchy top, my stripy blue mid trunk vest, as I hang my cold wet red t-shirt next to them, my skin shivers in discomfort with memories of cold sweats just moments old.

na farka a jike ina jan kafa tatsuna ya sami a bayan kofan bayan gida kaya kala kala a jingine domin su bushe, farin singlet, dogo har ya wuce gwiwa, yellow rigan sama na wande neke so may lawshi, rigan samana may bluestipes wanda ya tsaya akan cikina, zan shaya jan t-shirt mai sanyi ajike da zufa a bayan kofa a nasu da sauran kayanw, pata na yana rawa bai ji dadi ba yana ta tuna sanyi zufa da lokacin daju da bayi nisa ba.

I wake up soaked, dragging my feet.
My fingers find a selection of drying clothes behind the bathroom door—
a white singlet, a full-length gown,
my favorite yellow slouchy top,
a stripy blue mid-trunk vest.

As I hang my cold, wet red t-shirt next to them,
my skin shivers in discomfort with memories of cold sweats just moments old.

Na farka a jike, ina jan ƙafa.

Yatsuna ya samu kayayyaki na rataye bayan ƙofar bayan gida—

fari singlet mai tsawo har ƙasa,

rigar sama ta rawaya mai laushi,

da riga mai zane-zanen shuɗi mai tsayi har tsakiyar ciki.

Na rataya rigata ja mai sanyi da zufa,

fatata tana rawar sanyi da tunanin zufar da ta wuce 'yan dakiku da suka shige.