by Farrukh Amirov

I read poetry

until morning

Meeting, love, sweet sadness.

In front of my eyes are bad legs,

Discrased  helpfull grasses.

I read poetry

of songbirds

About  free flight.

Afghan birds in front of my eyes,

It pases away in a withered tree.

I read poetry

my grandfather Alpomish!

I swear, we are the sons of the Alps!

There is no Kuntugmish in front of my eyes,

Neither Rustam nor Gorogli.

I read poetry

higher emotions:

Faith, honesty, kindness.

Brothers and sisters  in front of my eyes,

They do not show mercy to each other.

I read poetry

the world is bright.

I’m here, the sky is clear.

It is clear before my eyes,

A world of steppe wolf

I read poetry

again and again.

Loud claps are played.

I have eternal applause in front of my eyes,

Curse the father of clappers.

I read poetry,

deceiving the nation,

Close your eyes to everything.

I do not tremble on any page,

 

I read poetry and call myself a poet…