Khayal Rza, Poet, journalist (Azerbaijan)

Posted on June 29, 2018

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Khayal Rza, Poet, journalist (Azerbaijan)
 
He is a member of New Generation Journalists Unity, International Turkish- speaking Journalists’ Unity, Azerbaijan Writers Unity and Eurasian Writers Unity
He is the author of five books (poetry)
He was honored with the prizes of “The best poet of the year” (2011- Istanbul) by European Journalists Unity, by Association of New Writers and Artists he was honored with “Year’s poet of new generation” (2011- Baku)
He is the President grand-holder.
He is the member of Unity of Masters of Turkish science and literary works (ILESAM) and the representative of Azerbaijan of this unity.
He is the head of Press-service of Azerbaijan Writers Unity.
He is the editor-in –chief of the sites AYB.az, aybKitab.az, RU.ayb.az
 
 
 
Yellow-flowered mourning banner
 
Wind will blow tomorrow…
Farewell wind
A baby’s dress
Which is becoming dry
On the cord
Will rock
The hem of the dress is yellow-flowered.
 
A poet
Had resembled the dress
To a mourning banner-
Just thirty-three years ago.
This is the end of the colored life story of the poet-
Yellow-flowered baby dress…
Waving mourning banner…
And so on
And so on…
 
And also
A narrow well
Its bottom is dark and damp…
Without any pain
At just very moment
We sent the poet- who wanted to sleep for a while
To sleep eternally
Switch on the lights.
Inside of sorrow!
Raise the banners,
The poet…died!
 
 
 
Inside out
 
The roads are inside out…
The hopes and wishes are inside out.
The sorrow is in piles
As heavy as batman
They are piled on one another…
It demands a manly man
To overstep on them!
The passions have been formatted
And modern jealous viruses
Have been downloaded
On the brains.
To resemble to one another
Has turned to a competition.
New tricks are fashionable now
For the sake of attempting.
The eyes committed suicide
They don’t stare at the roads anymore.
The hands see off guests
The arms don’t embrace the visitors.
Hearts don’t beat fast
They aren’t proud of with their rhythms.
The cities have been defeated to their angers,
Their characters have been changed.
Summer isn’t as the previous summer
And the winter isn’t as the last’s year’s winter.
Romantic looks have been changed
Now the looks are strange.
Now it is difficult to be a human being
On such a summer or on such a winter.
That is to say,
One must become lucky
In order to live.
The egg of the world
Is also inside out
It looks like a hen.
A human being
Searches for a human being
A lamp in their hands
In the middle of the day.
Everything is quite another
Everything is inside out.
Well,
What does it have do with me?
It isn’t my business!
 
 
 
Silence
 
A wish is keeping silence
Inside of my eyes,
It doesn’t want to be in flames.
A love is keeping silence on the tip of my tongue
It doesn’t want to start to speak.
A shaking hands is keeping silence in my hands
It fell out, it doesn’t want to reconcile with.
A hope varnishes in my heart
It keeps silence!
It doesn’t want to mix with others.
 
 
 
Let the death be glad
 
Put your head
On the knees of sorrow.
Ask for a bit mercy
And a little love…
Try
Not to promise to them
Try it not to overstep the sorrows.
Tell it to measure the roads,
But not to measure your neck
When you die.
Tell it that though your heart is full,
Your pocket is empty as the world.
Try not to sadden the sorrow.
Tell it
That you feel fine with it.
Try to make it smile a bit
Well,
I wonder if you shed tears
What will you gain?
Ask it to give you
A worthy death
Ask it if meets such a death
Send it toward you.
You couldn’t rejoice
Let the death be rejoiced.
But let the death be cheap
We have more things to buy
Still you need
To revenge for!
Though you have nothing to sell- even a little time!
What can we do?
It fell on the lot of us!
 
 
 
Red
 
Longing is black,
Sorrow is grey.
A hope is blue, what a fine harmony?
Yellow is the state of being a stranger.
White is happiness.
Green is belief,
Stand up
Lay a table, burn a candle!
The color of love is RED!
Don’t worry!
One day
It will knock on our door!
 
 
 
Colors
 
My darling,
Someone sheds tears with eyes,
But not with hair!
Don’t mix your hair
Your eyes that fell out with tears
Are revolting! How good!
Don’t reconcile them
With each other!
Your eyes are brown
As chestnut
But why are you shedding tears
In blue?
That is to say,
Blue is the color of hope,
Still you hope to my coming back!
But I haven’t got any tears,
But I am also weeping bitterly
In the color of red!
The color of my blood!..
My heart is bleeding!
Let me weep in this way
There are more people
Who weep in blue color
They say,
Red is the color of mad!
Well,
Now did you believe me
That I love you madly?
Those who aren’t mad
Are defeated by hope!
The color of my ill-fated love is known,
The color of your love is known,
Well,
Tell me what must we do?
 
 
 
I lost
 
I found a bit joy
And lost my sorrow!
I lost the ship
Which was full of with my grief!
Maybe I had forced myself to go in it,
Maybe the world was narrow-
I didn’t go in.
How happy days
I had spent!
I lost those times!
There are more people
Who broke my heart!
Those who were friends
But attacked me from behind.
Some tired my brain,
I have lost the number
How many were they?
I think grief is better
So is the flowing of the life!
Who is the pattern of my life?
Well,
Let it go
Let whomever I lost!
 
 
Translator Sevil Gulten
Posted in: AUTORE, POEZI