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şeirlər poems

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I was staring at a plane tree. I saw little Zakir
under the tree. He had a slingshot in his hand,
carefully looking for a sparrow. He looked carefree
and full of life…
I am standing face-to-face with this joyful kid. I
can’t hold back my tears. I am trying to take a step
towards him, but my feet won’t move. I recall Ja-
maladdin Rumi’s words:
‘Don’t be too joyful about the world: snake’s
patterns makes it attractive, but its venom kills.’
Forgive me, stay here, I can’t stand this separation.
I would like to get back to you, get back to your
world, but I can’t, can you hear me?

Hadn’t it come from the Creator I wouldn’t be in this sorrow.
The sorrow wouldn’t be my king, I wouldn’t be its slave.

Fakhri, this world is house of fault, otherwise me
Wouldn’t rely on my tears and buy ghusl every day.

I am talking in a whisper: “Please, stay the way
you are. At least one of us needs to stay strong,
despite the mammoth grief. There is no place to run
away in this world. Wherever I go I am walking on
pins and needles. Can you hear me?..”

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