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şeirlər poems

I could not ignore
a stupid man...
Return me, mother, return me to my cradle.

Each autumn my friends and acquaintances
forgot me…
The smiles could not find place
to land on my face, on my eyes.
As my lung was addicted to cigarette
I became addicted to drug
called a grief.
Return me, mother, return me to my cradle.

I got self-absorbed,
I got stacked inside...
The sorrow does not call me
The joy does not call me,
No one calls me
So that I go out from this
narrow place.
Return me, mother, return me to my cradle.

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