Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Umid Ali writes
At the field of fiery eyes,
Divigated a lot of eyes with hope.
Picked up fire (picked up sorrow),
But scants didn’t become full.
Winds of the elf eyes
Brought a message from dolours,
But it was neither zer nor zabar.
In the skies of that look,
The sun ruled and didn’t sink.
The merciful moon is in my eyes,
It took my pains into its soul.
I burned on the fire of a look,
Again, but I couldn’t die.
A soul is one pent, this flirty lovable –
The ivied fire of love to my heart.
--tr. Asror Allayarov, from "The Gate Opened by Angels"
Sergei Yesenin -- A. A. Bichukov