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şeirlər poems

XI
One day our neighbor Gara Melik
Happened to be on way up,
He could not go up on uphill.
His luck roads
Never crossed the uphills,
Were always on downhills.
That day his luck met uphill.
His face against the uphill
The prone Gara Melik
became ill.
Like himself
His luck lay prone.
He made effort to stand up,
The effort lay prone too.
Noone lent a hand.

Gara Melik looked prone at the stars,
Each was the Sun
That day
The stars winced too
Looking at Gara Melik...

XII
Our neighbor Gara Melik
Became lucky one day.
His luck smiled at him
All sorrow and grief in his heart
Burnt and became ash.
All the stones under his foot
Became soft like tulle.

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