Poem by Bakhar MURADOVA (Azerbaijan)
Life what they call
Life goes without our unaware
As if heralds were coming after us.
Life,which we call , is bird tale
Flew in a minute…leaving us
We can’t catch even the moment
He isn’t mine … and not yours.
In the fast stream of time
People disappearing … as particle.
Remaining , only consolation
From the relationship of time with man.
Whispering to the wind , on the road
Tell the future … about me!
Say that , I passed this world also ,
From the dawn of a clear morning…
To the star of the dark night ,
As choosing the strange fate , for myself .
I had said … I am the Sun and the Moon ,
I was born … as nature wanted,
Wearing as moon flower , thirsty for the Sun ,
I am the star belonging to Land of Fire.
Got power from this place, from this fire,
I was born as sun , for rising tomorrow
Hoping from the night to the day ,
Opened hand to the door of trust .
Feeling every day , as the day of my life,
I tried , as well as, to understand it ,
Every difficult period has its easy…
I thought … Almighty would bless us.
Remember this habit of the world,
We aren’t the last… and not the first.
Oh… son of motherland… my sister, my brother,
Live with the honor …this difficult day !!!
Translated into English by Mesme Ismayilova Aliyulla qizi
Azerbaijan State Pedagogical University
Doctor of Philosophy on Philology