Poems by Hadaa Sendoo

Poems by Hadaa Sendoo
Sendoo Hadaa (b.1961) is a poet and translator of international renown. Sendoo’s recent collections of poems include The Sweet Smell of Grass (in Persian 2016), Aurora (in Kurdish 2017), Mongolian Long Tone (in Georgian 2017) and Wenn Ich Sterbe, Werde Ich Träumen(bilingual German-Mongolian 2017). and Mongolian Blue Spot (Dutch, 2017). Since 1989, he has published 15 books of poetry and in 2006, he founded the ground-breaking World Poetry Almanac, which he continues to edit. He has won awards for poetry in India, the USA, Canada, Greece, China, and Russia, including the Mongolian Writers’ Union Prize. Sendoo Hadaa’s influence transcends national and ethnic borders and he is recognized as a great poet of the 21th century. He lives in Ulaanbaatar, capital of Mongolia.
A horse and a poem
I’m proud that I have a good poem
It’s like the horse’s eyes,
all warmth and deep feeling.
Perhaps this, my last creation,
I’ll be riding it to travel
through this whole world.
Mongolian Blue Spot
The blue spot, born with a symbol of life
Was found in North America
The Caucasus
And all of Central Asia
It’s filled with indigenous colors
And like the American Indians
Reveals a bright-colored pattern
Blue spot, like the Gobi
The Orkhon waterfall on the horizon…
And the Selenge River – its open waters
Mild, roundabout, intimate confluence
Of a few brilliant rivers
Then, these blue flowers
Also blooming in Africa
Even, Latin America
Blue spot, like a piece of sapphire
Its quality natural, and the most native
As the snow lotus, obsessed with the Tian Shan Mountains
And Peruvian highlands, their grazing sheep
Babies, they have also a spot, it looks blue
Maybe mistaken for a bruise
Most probably worried about, that it’s caused, perhaps, by maltreatment
But dear friends, I want to tell you more about
A palsied blue spot
That bit of blue
like waves, and like tenacious splendor
Grew also on my little ass
And my grandma was the first to see it
Neither surprised, nor worried
Its growth has been good
Blue spot, birthmark of highland, native nomadic dream
Like the Caribbean, sometimes blue and gray, as the sky
Sometimes blueish black, or dark brown
Just like the world, irregular in shape
And there is a border
And like the vast grassland
The unbroken Khentii Mountains
The clouds of Mexico, it’s slowly swaying
Like Spanish-Indian mixed-breed horses
Blue spot, primordial color of eternal heaven
My descendants will be proud of you
The birthmark
That was a surprise, as if one meets
Wild Mongolian horses –
Blue spot, the totem of life
The heart of the steppes…
It never stops beating
Note: The Blue Spot, also known as Mongolian blue spot, was called thus in 1883 by the German anthropologist Erwin Bälz.
Traveling Faraway
If I’ll travel far away, I don’t want to take more with me
than sunglasses, suntan oil and a compass
I am not afraid of getting lost, even if I am besieged by a blizzard, like an elk,
I won’t struggle any more
If I’ll travel faraway, I won’t bring any of my pain with me
such as the pain of life, illness, death, and separation
I never care about the return; like a wolf
even if buried in the snow of the mountain, I won’t howl
If I’ll travel faraway, I won’t make merry
In my mind, there is a source of sorrow
I don’t want a grand feast.
While the speeding train is taking me to the end of the earth
in the heart of the river, stones always stay quiet and noble
If I’ll travel faraway, I won’t miss the earth
Feeling neither care nor worries
Like pilgrims kneeling towards the sky
Fine poems come from a beautiful soul
Like pillows forming on a cloud.

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