Thursday, September 14, 2017

Umid Ali writes



LOVE

It is right, I killed myself.
I couldn’t live in refugee places,
My companion the soul to sorrows,
It was living in love – on the moon.

I am a pandhandler for myself, 
A lover occupied with my own soul.
What can I think about more?
Eventually, thousands of lovers are slaves to me.

Lastly, thousands of lovers are slaves to me.
What can I think about more?
After all, the sense that engraved my name on the stone
Is loyal to me.

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


Frieze on Colonna Traiana -- Apollodorus of Damascus

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