The utopian thoughts are like the dreams deceiving our youth,
Our wish of being heroes is as a fantasy.
Aysel Nasirzade, a poetess from Azerbaijan, shares her poem
Aysel Nasirzade (Baghirova Aysel Bahram gizi) was born on December 20, 1986, in the Zangilan region of Azerbaijan. She is a graduate of Baku State University, Faculty of Social Sciences and Psychology, majoring in Philosophy. She is the author of several poetry books, including “A Soul Hanging from Silence”, “The Narrowness of the Cage”, and “One Free Joy, Two Rhymed Sorrows”, as well as the book “My Day Begins with the Night” published in Turkey. She is also the co-editor of the anthology “Delicate Shadows” and the book “Homeland Warriors”, dedicated to the memory of the April Martyrs. A member of the Azerbaijan Writers’ Union and the World Young Turkish Writers’ Union (DGTYB), Aysel regularly publishes her poems in the press. Many of her poems have been adapted into songs. She is also the founder and director of the literary website: www.zerifkolgeler.com.
One day….
One day….Though we always say ‘one day the world will be all right,
The world won’t be all right,
The utopian thoughts are like the dreams deceiving our youth,
Our wish of being heroes is as a fantasy.
Till what time we’ll deceive ourselves with empty lies?
The color of guilt is black
Though we make efforts to dress it up.
From time to time
A number of Jesus will be crucified.
A number of Nasimi’s skin will be peeled off
While they shout the truth.
New religions will be created to moralize the people,
The powerful word will be told in order to recognize the God.
Again the addresses will be shown wrongly.
The Great Creator will be looked for
Not in the hearts
But in the mosques or churches.
The people will kneel down at the stones
They will kiss the stones.
The people will be tempted by Paradise,
And they will be threatened by the Hell.
In order to escape the world
A lot of Janna Dark will be burned at the stake.
Again the history will look for the victims
For the subject of the textbooks.
The oppressed people will be choked under the knees,
Those who believe in justice
Will wait for the punishment of oppressors in vain.
The world will again unite or will be divided
Again the innocent, guiltless babies will die of splinter wounds in Syria
And guiltless babies will die because of starving in Africa.
Again the world will keep silence hearing about Khojaly tragedy
The name of Qarabagh will still live in the poems, songs or in the names of cafes and restaurants.
Under the name of cease-fire
Again a number of houses will burn in flames.
Again the feeling of joy will be lost in the hearts of a lot of mothers-
Their most sweet wishes will shiver with cold.
The shoulders of many fathers will be broaden for grandsons
And will be like a pillar for the coffin of son while saying ‘Let the motherland be safe’.
Again the poorest son of the people will be needed in defending the country.
Though the human beings repent for thousand times
They won’t be deviated from practicing sin
Until being lost in guilt.
Since the day taking the first step
Until Israfil blows his trumpet.
(Translated from Azerbaijani into English by Sevil Gulten)
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