Page 143 - Design_Zakir_Fakhri_Poems_FULL_Layout 1
P. 143
şeirlər poems
You fall in love with the garden called Motherland,
Open your eyes, see who is the gardener
in your Motherland.
If it rains a thousand times to my barren fate,
No wheat, grain will grow without Karabakh.
When I wrote: “The world will not remain like that”,
The hope glowed in saz of soul.
When Zakir Fakhri interpreted it in detail,
You become motherless orphan without Karabakh.
143
