Azam Abidov
A poem of equality
Who you are -
A white man,
black
or red,
You are a boon companion or a threat,
To put you first
how can you well afford,
But look here -
You're a human being from the Lord!
Who you are -
A Muslim,
Christian,
Sikh,
You adore -
On man
To play a trick,
With the others
will you not accord,
But remember,
You're a human being from the Lord!
You are my brother,
You are my sister,
darling,
God will look at
not your varied colors, -
But at heart,
And at your good intentions
So, why to kill each other,
Why to fight,
We are equal
and we all have
the same right!
May God take
in due course
our lives,
Just tell me,
does friendship
have a price?
We were given time -
Very short
Remember,
Once
we all return back to the Lord!!
Who you are -
A white man,
black
or red,
You are a boon companion or a threat,
Pass these words
to others
as a cord:
We're a human being from the Lord!
Azam Abidov, poet, translator, was born in 1974 in Namangan , city of flowers, Uzbekistan . He trained in philology. Azam is a talented literary translator. He published many poetry and translation books. His translation from eminent voices of Uzbek poetry Usmon Nosir and Chulpon was applauded among literary scholars and readers. The most successful works by Azam Abidov are "Tunes of Asia" (English translation of contemporary Uzbek poetry), "Dream of lightsome dawns" and "White shadow. Davsaman. A miracle is on the way". He co-edited Uzbek version of the book "Muslim Life in America ". He writes both in Uzbek and English. He is currently interested in conducting research on American ghazals and contemporary world poetry. Though he works as an administrator in a foreign company, but he deeply feels that he is a creative man and he must write. "Poets are the flute which makes God's voice audible" is his slogan in creative writing. He attended international creative writing programs in the USA , Germany and India . Azam's awards include prizes of "Ulughbek" Foundation (1996, 2000); he was a winner of republican contest on Uzbek and Uzbek Literature (1995), winner of contest "My first booklet" among young poets and writers (1990) and winner of the competition "Art Holiday" (1987-1988). His poems and translations may also be read at: www.uiowa.edu/~iwp www.poetry.com, www.ghazalpage.net . Azam lives with his wife, journalist Nodira Abdullaeva and with his three sons in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. He receives email at
azam_Abidov@yahoo.com
In Your Soul
(ghazal)
Tell me, o devoted, who else in your soul?
Do you really like me to go hence in your soul?
I wear my sun glasses to hide myself from rival,
It seems there isn't any "contact lens" in your soul.
You hurt my pride; however, I'm not domineering,
I found the face of shame is too dense in your soul.
It's my fault - to ring aloud - before you fell in love,
I could not hang acoustic strong bells in your soul.
Belief's in blood, no mercy, again to whom I cry,
Azam, poor and naive, is on 'sales' in your soul.
August 19, 2005
Shade
I always look for shadow
Everything is obscure though
The sky sleeps in my eyes,
The Moon is slice and slice.
I'll find the right shadow
In the doomsday meadow -
When everything is fade,
Be only seen God's shade.
August 19, 2005
Priority
What I've already seen,
White and black or green
Is nothing at long last,
We're still on the go.
A dead ant on the grass,
Without any fuss
Experienced a vast
Of things,
Ages ago.
August 19, 2005
Gabriel, touch me gently:
(Ghazal)
Gabriel, touch me gently with your wings,
Oh, my gracious - from the backstage - woe stings.
Graves are either gardens of endless delight
Or deep holes of the hell, where Evil flings.
I want to be a spot in hairs of the camel,
Like a leaf my life in windy weather swings.
The task of time is killing of all lavish gifts,
It never comes anew - life's chimes - it never rings.
Among the dead, be the most attractive, Azam,
As Solomon is the best of all earthy kings!
August 19, 2005
Writer angels
(ghazal)
Day is breaking in despair thinking of you, writer angels,
I am praying, slowly crying, crowned with rue, writer angels.
Every movement, every motion we consider right for us,
Though in practice what you've written will become true, writer angels.
I'm a sinner holding heavy loads on my filthy arms,
It wishes to be so open-hearted, pure like dew, writer angels.
The book of our deeds in whole weep or dance in old pages,
I forgot my past betrayal; give to look through, writer angels.
Haven't you tired yet to seat on creature's shoulders all long life?
Let us change the place for one day, it's Azam's queue, writer angels.
August 22, 2005
Lie
Referring to Lord
A worshiper cries:
"See, there is a lot
Of wherefores and whys"
Referring to Lord
A worshiper cries:
"I can not afford
To tell you the lies"
A group in the sky
Looks at the earth:
"If there is a lie,
No happiness and mirth!"
August 22, 2005
By your love
I have a dirty heart.
If I die
I wish you only
Question me oh God.
I thirst for seeing Your Face
And to forget my deeds
By your love and grace.
August 22, 2005
Question
I laughed and had fun
When a bird in the sky
Has told me that once
With them I will fly.
I've been crying incessantly
Since an ant - too brave,
Asked me: Are you saintly?
What have you prepared
For your gloomy grave?
August 22, 2005
***
I miss,
Trees begin to sing,
The Sun proceeds swimming.
Time goes on again on the terrace.
Do you remember me, bliss?
How can I get rid of this mortal music,
Which makes me to recall the past?
Even without any arid pleasure
I miss,
I miss:
August 27, 2005
FORMULA
Here is the formula:
"Life = Plus + Minus"
How can I see the right way
If I am eyeless?!
September 14, 2005
A Reading woman
A woman's sitting in a slum
The slum is in a dump.
As she gets the hump:
The woman is reading.
It is dark in the dump,
There is a dim light
Inside the slum.
The woman is reading
Under the wan candlelight.
Her hope from life is dim, dim:
The reading woman
of my dream!
September 14, 2005
***
Taste is different.
But I adore the fact:
Some people
Thirst for post mortem life.
***
Straight line,
You have two points,
Let me seat on one.
Let me have a chance
Just to throw a glance
At the Second End.
Straight line,
You are only one!
I am tired of walking
In a zigzag line!
***
I am clay -
Liquid and weak.
I have neither tongue
Nor mouth, to speak.
Everyone likes
To make some figure
From me,
To make a shape.
I am clay -
Liquid and weak.
I always go
Through palms.
I leak:
I leak:
September 27, 2005
***
Let me wait:
I want to see this waiting as a beauty.
I wish
When I look at it
It gives me no tiresome at all
As I need once to wait for thousand years
God's voice with patience.
Let me learn to wait
So far it is not late.