Mohamed Rahal: “The White Bird’s Poem: Exile, Resistance, and the Longing for Oran”
In the wide and resonant world of Algerian folk poetry, few voices have endured as powerfully as that of Al-Hashemi Ben Samir, affectionately remembered as “The White Bird.” A poet of resistance, exile, and deep national yearning, Ben Samir’s legacy lives through over 250 folk poems—many of which have been immortalized in song. Among them, “Bia Daq El Mor” stands out as a haunting reflection of collective suffering and an unyielding love for the homeland.
Written in 1877, in the thick of forced migrations and brutal labor imposed by colonial rule, “Bia Daq El Mor” captures the anguish of those deported to distant lands—New Caledonia and Australia’s Cayman region—after enduring prison, torture, and separation from their roots. With piercing honesty, Ben Samir recounts the sorrow of exile and the fierce pull of Algeria—especially Oran, that shimmering city of memory and dreams.
Although forced migration halted in 1924, following the Great Arab Revolt, the poem continued to ripple through Algerian consciousness. It found new life when Sheikh Abdel Bouras first set it to Bedouin melody in 1950, using the reed pipe and qellal to express its aching beauty. The song was later reinterpreted by Sheikh Al-Khalidi, cementing its place in the oral tradition of western Algeria.
Following independence, the poem became central to Oranian folklore. Music legend Blaoui El Houari gave it a new orchestral arrangement, while Cheb Khaled, with permission from El Houari, introduced it to the world in his 1986 album Yaltalib Sana. The song, laced with nostalgia, became a cornerstone of rai music’s global rise. Later, Cheb Hasni would also interpret it, reaffirming its timeless relevance.
Bia Daq El Mor
Bia Daq El Mor
Oran, the beautiful and the high, is covered with so many palaces
We must return to my homeland and live freely in it
Bia Daq El Mor
Oran, the beautiful and the high, is covered with so many palaces
We must return to my homeland and live freely in it
Bia Daq El Mor
Yeah, Bi Daq El Mor, Ya Malik, and I miss my country, my country
Turn around Oran, turn around and take me, my traveler
Whoever loves beauty in Oran will find it
He who sweeps away from Ras El Ain will never forget it
Bia Life has become narrow and I miss the girls of my country
Even when I left and walked and thought of my country
It made me angry and I cried, I thought of all my days
I left the master at the gates of the seas
Oh, life is narrow
On Friday, I found a woman crying at the graves
Turn to Oran, turn and give me, O traveler
Indeed, a person is defeated and his worries increase
Oh, life has tasted
Then he spoke and asked her to talk about the famous Zain
Oh, life is narrow
I told her, repeat your story, O Rouba, to Ghayyad
She said to me, "A good man died and left me arrogant, Oran is a turn."
From my longing, I didn't hear from him, I tasted the sighs
Oh, life is narrow
If you cried, heroes, you sent them away in a ship
Oh, life is narrow
On them, the lock bracelet is deliberately intentional
Oh, life is narrow
The people who are walking around are chained up With the resource
When things get tight
If you cried like heroes, you would receive the heat of the audience
When things get tight...
