I was born in Baku, but I live in the city of Krasnoyarsk, in Russia. Greetings to you and International Poetry Festival in Rahovec Kosovo 6th edition. Unfortunately, I can not attend personally in Rakhovets and hug the hospitable
hosts of the festival.
I am the author of more than 6 dozen books of prose, poetry, essays and fairy tales for children and adults. Today I want to read you a short poem, which was translated into English by a poet from the United Kingdom, a lecturer at Cambridge and my friend Richard Berengarten. The poem is called
“Tree.”
Artillery shots. Foxtrot sounds.
Villages and ancient manuscripts burn.
And only the tree outside the window keeps waiting.
Whenever you glance at it
The mind darkens. Ice crumbles.
A fiery moon ascends.
And only the tree outside the window keeps waiting.
Whenever you glance at it
You wander around for days on end.
Walls before you. Walls behind you.
Nothing is any use.
And only the tree outside the window keeps waiting.
Whenever you glance at it
Echoes turn into a watery abyss.
Time collapses and vanishes.
And only the tree outside the window keeps waiting.
Whenever you glance at it
You turn into snow falling.
Into a whisper in darkness.
But the tree outside the window keeps waiting for you
For this tree is just like you.