2024-02-10 01:52:08
(poem)
Of those expelled from heaven
life is exile
if you want
drive if you want
you want to live
sleep if you want
write and create if you want
I mean,
of those expelled from heaven
we are in hell
sometimes in the pain of hearts,
sometimes we are in your eyes,
Tears also have a way,
the eyes are the womb of suffering,
earth is a grave,
cheeks are desert
tears
made a breakthrough
walking face down
our life
from the womb of suffering
a road to earth
I mean,
the path of a tear
is as long as
and this is hell
separation is far away,
it rains on the roads you pass,
the snow on the unwritten side of the forehead…
I was expelled from the paradise garden of my soul,
I went straight, climbed the mountain, crossed the road,
I passed through the virgin land of Africa,
I came from China and India.
I left my palace like Isabel,
I combed my paths like a light breeze,
like a flood from the mouth of the mountains,
I have reached my destiny.
God’s hope is left behind,
the worm is pressing, the showers are falling on it,
I saw the floods-waters flow murky,
Friends also got involved in this water…
I came
Our brave gas commits suicide,
our sustenance comes out of the stone again every day,
I saw a knot, buy our article,
I saw that my white hair was tangled, I came.
I didn’t have enough patience when my eyebrows darkened,
after receiving a bribe from God,
I didn’t come for a bellyful of bread,
I came fighting with myself.
It is the breath of the road
is the soul of the way out,
man’s glory in the world,
and it recognizes fingerprints.
They say planes fly straight,
where you sit
you are on your way to the future
age comes on the road,
it’s like you’re walking in the mouth of a crocodile
neither wife nor brother comes after him,
you know, those next to you are not friends,
you know friend you from the gallows
saved and enjoying it,
the rest is color, that is, it is a lie!
Yes, planes fly in a straight line,
straight line,
of the curved line
hanged on the gallows
the way we go
like a verse
to our own forehead
from new line,
luck, fate
written in the old alphabet.
Clouds are close in airplanes,
the clouds are like a cotton ball,
seas, lakes
the clouds are the spirit in the sky,
the yeast was from the tears in the eyes,
the black one is full,
network too,
just a sigh is enough
it destroys the heavens…
I knew I was dew on the leaves,
I knew I was a breeze at dawn
I’m finer than a mint leaf, yes
filled with the air of the homeland, cheerful,
I was my father’s favorite child
I was the light of my mother’s eye,
I had love, love in me,
I wouldn’t care for the swallows,
I still don’t know what he’s hoping for
of those created by the great creator.
Your hands that write the truth, your pencil arms,
I was the most fragile verse, line,
I was not the flower of your garden,
I am not a rose, but the fragrance of roses
I was in the song of the oldest waters,
I am the water and the taste of the spring,
we are hugged by so many flowers
oh, I’m the one who was born, and I’m the one who remembers,
it grew and grew in our yard,
spread out leaves on all four sides,
see how love is, blackberry bush,
how many ways have you hugged my neck
how many ways have you scratched my hand.
Your beloved country, your beautiful country,
I loved autumn, I loved winter,
snakes, beetles,
I loved the bird flapping its wings in the sky,
I loved the neighbor who hated me.
With birds, trees, people
motherland is motherland
with raging floods,
with swift tongues,
his village, with his hands,
motherland is motherland
I brought my pain with me
I did not let it remain in the hands of orphans,
I said, let it blow like the wind in the deserts,
I said, let him stay in the fields like me,
They say that the homeland is the hell of the expatriate.
when my place is home
I didn’t prepare for abroad
I was not ready for separation, hard work,
tsunamis of butterfly wings
may arise from the sum of
I couldn’t be the wind, I couldn’t be the wind,
in a country with broken sails,
and the place of the innocent is hell at last,
that is, expatriate…
The foreigner does not tell me fairy tales,
The motherland does not call me a son!
Nowadays,
I am silent like a prisoner with the last word in his mouth,
is my trust
I have no secret to reveal
I have a lot to say
is my peace
I talk to girls with my eyes
girls are burning
I look at it, it catches fire, I burn,
stroking my hair
playing with my eyebrows
I can’t bring it
the hungry birds of the foreigner,
magpies meet,
crows, pigeons,
familiar thrushes,
(the mad devil says
come, speak the language of these birds,)
and a nightingale’s voice,
since the snow falls early this winter
the nest of these birds is left in the field,
the leaves of the trees have joined the fall,
My longing has become a winged bird in this foreigner’s hand,
I started snarling like a monkey
sick officer yelling at me
I couldn’t bark at him
I started to growl like a dog
that’s how we learned each other’s language,
so we saw it turn to ice
our warm place,
my head
turned into a graveyard of native words,
tongue headstone,
keyed, locked,
It’s like a frozen turtle that will rise again someday,
see how they roll their tongues
a man who can talk for sixty years,
see how they become dumb in a day
facial expression,
I understand foreignness with the movement of my hands,
rubbing myself like this
this is how I deceive foreigners…
Chechen Yunus,
arab mohammed
Persian lord Soleiman,
Mogdat from Morocco,
Afghan Khaled,
african Mamadu,
who else, who else
we are all strangers in European lands,
we are all human
all that is left in our eyes is our wishful thinking,
we all wander from our destiny,
we eat from a bowl,
to the humane state that owns us,
we bow and say goodbye
we are humiliated together,
in a lonely place
ourselves a beggar
somewhere we think
no one asks
they have a homeland
what are they looking for here, what are they walking around,
and thus tames us,
they string us up
sometimes we clap to other songs,
our voices grow louder
we humble ourselves
we forget the passing of the years,
speed of time
it’s playful love
the expatriate’s love for refugees…
Again the air of parting came,
I’m addicted to being bored again
one night on the day of the roaring bull,
I am the sound of a snake howling in the night.
One morning he woke up,
I’m walking in search of food,
my friends are anxiously searching
they can’t even find it when the brow darkens.
I sing in the language of the waters,
I write poetry in the language of flowers,
I’m in the language city of my destiny,
so I have gone astray.
I’m alone here
after all
how many people are with me
I have water and bread in front of me every day,
I have food like an animal every day.
Look how I’m doing, look how I’m doing
cry for my poor state, my motherland,
clouds flutter, thunder rolls,
take care of my eyes, oh motherland.
I took my head and went on the road,
I’m a strange wayfarer this evening
the train does not run from here to there,
Expatriation is the last stop of separation…
To myself that I left in my homeland
now i’m watching from afar
took my new name
like a stray bull
I join you
wolves eat
the lamb that is separated from the flock,
I saw a sweeper yesterday
the beautiful Afghan girl,
an Armenian beauty was wiping the windows,
like chopping onions
the Uzbek lady’s eyes were watering,
I got the color of the leaves like a worm,
so as not to be eaten by birds and worms
I didn’t let the light in my heart go out,
on the face of the waves
will the sun burn
the ways that lead me
will he return it?
In prison, my eyes do not move from the door,
does not collect from the roads abroad,
it rains just like us,
separate views,
separated relations,
various calamities,
People who don’t know my name call me Azerbaijan.
I know that my mother is telling me
they are considered refugees here
from his village, valley,
the man who ran away from the mountains and plains,
they are considered refugees here
the man who runs away from himself,
i turn violet when i stand in line for food
when babies bend their necks at the table,
from chicken that smelled when eaten,
I am ashamed of the wealth of my country,
I am ashamed of my country
From my talent to fall in love.
I joined the colors, I was never chosen,
the single melts in the crowd,
what’s good, I killed myself when I arrived
I knew they would kill abroad…
This world is no place to stop, yeah
Suffering in the homeland is also a separate pleasure,
what comes must go, what goes must come
everything in the world is a substitute.
My perverse thoughts have gone mad,
it’s raining on my hair, winter’s gray
they kicked me out of the country, they kicked me out,
Just like they expelled Adam from paradise.
They chased, chased like a miserable dog,
I resented the willow, the elm,
my tongue runs down my throat like a thread,
hanged from a gallows the size of the country.
I have moans and sighs,
there is sweat on my forehead that counts tears,
I have moments when I come back to myself,
I turn and revive memories.
Everything in the world has its own name,
what is bad is not being exalted in one’s own name,
strangeness was the wing of a fishbowl,
is not being able to fly like a bird…
I didn’t know your streets before,
sunny days
moonlit and starry nights,
I missed the winds too,
opened the flowers in a different way,
strange was the song of the birds, strange, strange,
the joy of life was strange, strange, strange,
the black girls I fell into
his body was foreign, his breath was foreign, foreign,
I couldn’t recognize the fruits either,
I didn’t know what kind of meat was being sold.
what’s the point of waiting
this is the end of my life
my dream is in the beauties of my country,
my eyes are fixed on a beauty,
my poor dog doesn’t know either
a stranger left on the edge of the world,
when he came he was as majestic as a mountain,
like a lofty, unyielding mountain,
now lost in himself
now lost in himself
howls like a mountain lark,
it’s time to be born, i’m in the womb
build a lifetime from every layer,
i’m in another life’s paradise
I couldn’t survive my life…
My heart is broken
I drank blue
a drop of tear,
Life is a drink,
I was sore
I moaned
come on i said
Come, my beauty, the stranger is alone here, come
Here, the eyes of a stranger led the way, come.
I drew furrows and plowed my forehead,
Ajab, ajab must be watered, come on.
The owl inside me howls every night,
The desolate heart planted a radish in my head, come.
My four sides are Alp-Aruz with Yalincik,
Beyrakdi in the dark dungeon, come.
My mood is changeable, my temper again,
hard as winter, fragile as spring, come.
My dear house is after the earthquake.
my bones, my walls collapsed, come.
Don’t let them say you’re old, darling.
He was as brave as a girl. Come.
We are a woven loop-by-loop carpet,
the foreigner has torn me apart, come on.
didn’t come
rather,
water in his eyes weighed down,
could not come
“My heart, which you see as happy, has caught the fire of grief,”
again suffering, again oppression!
Stars have no homeland, no foreign country,
stars have no power to be born again,
last stars
it flows, it flows… it suddenly breaks like flowing honey,
this is our life
flow, flow, flow, break
our lives are built
divided into homeland, divided into foreign countries,
and one day the gates of heaven will open,
we join eternity
…and one day,
exile again…
Brussels, 2021-2022.