Eldar Akhadov (Russia)

Eldar Akhadov (Russia)
International Forum for Creativity and Humanity
Ambassador in Russia was born in Baku in 1960. He lives in Krasnoyarsk. A member of the Union of Writers of Russia and other writers ‘organizations of Russia, Ukraine and Azerbaijan, a member of the Russian Geographical Society, a member of the Eurasian Peoples’ Assembly, a member of the PEN International Writing Club. The author of 60 books of poetry and prose. Laureate of the State Literary Prize of the Governor of the Yamal-Nenets Autonomous district, laureate of the National Prize “Silver Feather of Russia”, “For the Good of the World”, “North is a Country Without Borders”, silver medal of the IV All-Russian Literary Festival of Festivals. Silver medal of the IV Eurasia Literary Festival of Festivals.
His name is borne by two Siberian rivers he discovered. He walked thousands of kilometres through the snow desert. He visited Argentina and China, Greece and Brazil, on the island of Cuba he went guerrilla paths of Che Guevara, sailed on a two-mast sailing brig on the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas, worked underground to a depth of 2,200 meters, extracted gold in taiga, gave direction to wells that gave half a billion tons of oil…
Works by Eldar Akhadov were published in Russian in Russia, Ukraine, Azerbaijan, the United States, Germany, Israel, and Kazakhstan. His works have been translated into other languages and published in Italy, Montenegro, Bulgaria, Azerbaijan, Kosovo, Bangladesh.
I tore all your photos.
But it did not help. I remembered you.
I went very far and never came back.
But it did not help I remembered you.
I met with others and was loved.
But it did not help. I remembered you.
I got drunk – like dead, like a shoemaker, like a tramp, like the last creature.
But it did not help. I remembered you.
I got married, had children, became home-grown.
But it did not help. I remembered you.
I’m getting old. Everything is eroding from memory.
Everything. Except you.
This edge is unsafe,
Don ‘t walk on it, don ‘t joke.
Anything will cut like oil,
And alive won ‘t let you get off.
Maybe you will believe in someone,
You ‘re going for something:
Brother, this is not your problems,
There’s nothing at the finish line.
And no one will appreciate this move.
And no one will pop up about you.
No luck, no fame, no money –
Nothing but trouble .
But, alas, no curse , no prayer
Unable to turn him away…
He steps on the razor blade,
And the shining path continues to shine.
Oh, lovely, warm sea!
No wind, no waves.
On the whole aboveground space
No cloud buoys visible,
Only islands of dark greens
With a strip of sand at the water
Yes crabs suffering from idleness,
And traces of escaped lizards
As in the endless summer I enter
Into the still waters of silence,
And glare of elastic light
Runs away from me on the bottom of the sea.
A small blind rain was walking in the sky above the earth,
Tripped and started falling somewhere down his head.
He was short and shallow like morning dew.
Ah, how the happy voices laugh at him!..
But all this was so was so fleeting and did not affect his attention,
When he recognized the ground by touching her and became a stream for her.

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