Thursday, June 22, 2017

Umid Ali writes


The moon spreads its wealth dowry, 
Stars will appear.
I planted flowers in my soul, 
Then they bloomed.

Now moon’s face is snow-white, 
Stars are prudish.
The odors of the flower in the soul, 
They are becoming pleasant.

Does the moon have a heart? 
I don’t know, but
The moon is situated in my soul, 
It shines constantly.

The moon spreads its wealth dowry…

--tr. Asror Allayarov from "The Gate Opened by Angels"

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