Poems by Tarana Turan Rahimli (Azerbaijan)
This love has headache since it is born
In order to bury your greeting
I throw another greeting on yours.
This love has headache since it is born,
I am leaving still we are safe and sound.
Place your sorrow inside of you thoroughly,
Let your words remain on your tongue now.
There is no grave for my patience bearing you,
Now live with that patience, die with that patience.
Nobody took revenge for this poor love,
Let’s bury the dead body of this love.
We always promised to each other,
Let’s play with words till the end of our life.
As if your eyes aren’t yours
You see a handful of soil in my hand,
I look and Motherland is seen in my palm.
It seems to you that you pick a leaf,
The wounded branches are covered with blood.
You know it is the earth under your feet,
You don’t know how many graves are in inch of earth.
You know the end of all is the death, and grave,
You don’t know life is narrower than the grave.
I stare at your face, your eyes are frozen,
As if your eyes aren’t yours.
The way that leads to me is full of tears,
I think you will be lost in the way leading me.