Akbar GOShALI  (YOLCHUYEV) – Azerbaijan

Akbar GOShALI  (YOLCHUYEV)

İn 1973 He was born in the Tovuz

He graduated from the Azerbaijan Technical University in 1990-1995, and in 1998-2001 from the Academy of Public Administration under the President of Azerbaijan (second).

In 1996-2000 he worked at the Ministry of Youth and Sports.

Akbar Goshali continues his labor activity at Ataturk Center, which operating under the Honorable chairmanship of the President of Azerbaijan, he is the head of the department.

He is the author, co-author, designer and editor, preface author of numerous artistic and scientific-publicist books: “Those who have died”, “Altun Bitik”, “Over Death”, “Contemporary Azerbaijani Literary Organizations”, “Azerbaijan Youth Movement” , “We came, We saw it, We wrote “,” Voice … Word … Colours … “,” Anthology of the new generation of Tatar poetry “,” Garabagh in the Heart and Pen “and others.

He was awarded the medal “progress” by the Order of the President of the Republic of Azerbaijan (15.07.2015) He was also a retired person of the Presidential Scholarship Foundation (2008-2009)

He was awarded the “Honorary Youth” Gold Badge (2010), established by the National Assembly of Youth Organizations of the Republic of Azerbaijan (NAYORA) together with the Ministry of Young and Sport. He was also awarded the Republican Youth Award, co-founded by the Writers Union with the Ministry of Young and Sport (2002). In addition, he was awarded with the medal “TÖLEGEN AYBERGANOV” of Kazakhstan (2016)

 

GARABAGH

What will change

if your mountains aren’t high

if your valleys aren’t long

if your clouds don’t flow

if your gazelles and roes don’t look as a man?

 

I love you

You’re my Garabagh

You’re my black garden

You’re my black and white

You’re bigger than yourself

You’re bigger than my word

(You’re my voice)

Garabagh!

 

Garabagh you’re my fate

What can I write on the white paper by my pen?

 

I only know

my height will be short

my shoulder will be curve

my tongue will be short

my revenge will be invalid

till I don’t come back to you

but this isn’t life

Tomorrow God can say:

Oh man,

I didn’t create you like this……

 

I AM NOT

I’m neither pagan nor a sacred place,

I’m neither two nor one,

I’m God’s namesake,

But I’m not his friend.

 

I couldn’t be a king when I was fourteen,

Perhaps I was born untimely.

I didn’t live a flower life,

I wasn’t a black stone as well.

 

…It was before the mankind,

I fell from heaven,

I go there again,

I’m not thirty.

 

MY RESPONSIBLE FRIEND

My blind,

deaf,

dumb,

responsible, dear friend.

 

My bright-faced,

smoothed-tongued,

responsible, faithful friend

waits for soldier’s way.

 

My responsible friend

has a silver ring

with Ayat-al Kursi

on his ring finger.

 

My responsible, faithful

friend

has an evident way, trace,

hand,

tongue,

hadithes.

 

My friend has a good name with his belief,

My friend can perform a ritual worship,

My friend can keep the fast.

He keeps the fast not with his body,

but with conscience,

He’s good in this condition.

 

 

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