Guzal Ruzieva writes

HALF OF THE AUTUMN 
  
Now in the half of autumn – the world is dried, 
The other half – the leaf became yellowish. 
Then half of the autumn – the hottest day of summer, 
The other half – the tremor which burnt a fire, 
Now in the half of autumn – the memory that parting painted yellow, 
The other half – the sense which was located in an avenue, 
Then half of the autumn – a yearning, also a concern, 
The other half – the footstep that didn’t reach to your door, 
A beautiful season – now not autumn, the half is cold, 
The other half – a winter which got to the souls. 
Now half of the autumn – the house couldn’t heat even the body, 
The other half – absolutely waiting for something,  
Now half of the autumn – the sun that lost its shine, 
The other half – the moon divagated at night. 
Then half of the autumn – the window that hasn’t knocked, 
The other half – tea became cold in a cup. 
Now half of the autumn – the picture reminded of love, 
The other half is vague and the other half is unseen. 
When did our beloved season become such a sorrow? 
My dear, why is autumn guilty if we are unhappy?

--tr. Asror Allayarov
 Autumn -- Frederic Edwin Church

Guzal Ruzieva writes

A MODERN FAIRY TALE

Still the sufferings are dark forest for me,

As if the predators’ breath divagated somewhere.

A human still walking to find the way,

Even now a wind… Then a voice of the “clatter.”

The emeralds’ eyes are full of tears yet,

Neither the universe nor the earth hearkens to their wails.

Some place the axe touches the tree…

The world still cheats their children!

But today, the tale changed a bit,

Although the dotty worlds’cuddle is ember yet,

The change is that,

Nowadays,

There are no magicians to extricate from the forest… 

--tr. Asror Allayarov


Magic of  Woodman III -- FrodoK