Poems by Tarana Turan Rahimli (Azerbaijan)
They come toward themselves
Till the day they know who they are.
They come to life and pass away thousand times
Till their death-hour comes.
They set webs like spiders,
They pull the nets inside of them.
Whatever grief they have, gather in heart
And the grief turns to a new poem.
They share grief with mountains,
They shake the hands of rocks.
They teach stones how to speak,
They don’t know the language of destiny.
The God always protect them,
There is God’s light in their hearts.
There is a pure child inside of them
God make this child grow old, but not be adult.
They pass away being hung from their words,
They don’t let the words be choked.
They are tired out worn-out life,
They die in order to come to life again.
Again I can’t sleep
This night patience tests me.
The longest night of my life
At last will put an end of me.
The memories will awaken,
Seeing me that I am awake.
Oh, how many people will run to me
Through the corners of my past.
So many guests
Won’t go in my thoughts.
One of them will break the rules
And will quarrel with all of them.
Again the sunless days
Will be covered with grayness.
Once I interrupted the tongue
Now it will try to put me to the sword.
The blood of the dead wishes
Will be splashed on my face.
In the north of this night
This poet will be frozen.
Translated from Azerbaijani into English by Sevil Gulten