Poetry Lifts Weight Of Science Weariness
The truth is—living with science and poetry together is both hard and easy.

Science demands sleepless nights, relentless effort. Yet it becomes easier because poetry heals that exhaustion, lifting the weight off my soul – Resmiyya Sabir
Our Guest Today – Resmiyya Sabir, is a renowned Azerbaijani poet, writer, translator, PhD in Economics and Professor, member of the Union of Azerbaijani Writers, and laureate of numerous international awards.
Interviewed by Jakhongir NOMOZOV | Uzbekistan
Living between the worlds of science and poetry, what new dimensions has this dual path added to your spirit? How do you balance creative and scientific work in your daily life?
I often say: I was born a poet, but I became an economist.
People frequently ask me about the difficulties of carrying both.
The truth is—living with science and poetry together is both hard and easy.
Science demands sleepless nights, relentless effort. Yet it becomes easier because poetry heals that exhaustion, lifting the weight off my soul.
And still—it is difficult too, because writing a poem is not the end. One must publish, have books printed, and represent the country abroad. These too are responsibilities.
But I strive to do both worthily, for both are my way of life, my essence. They enrich the soul equally. When one tires me, the other comes to my aid.
Your poems often carry a woman’s gaze and tender feelings. What inner rhythms help you preserve such delicacy?
Poetry is the mirror of our inner world.
A writer does not merely write her own fate, but transforms what happens around her—society itself—into verse.
To be a woman is to be sensitive; to be a poet is to be doubly so.
That is why we burn for the pain of words on the page, and for the glow of coals in the fire.
As I once wrote:
On paper I weep for the pain of words,
By the fire I burn for the pain of embers.
No one knows the poet’s sorrow—
I was not born for happiness.
I try to ensure the world’s bitterness does not scar my heart.
In another poem, My Life, I said:
The seasons changed…
The world changed…
Time changed…
People changed…
Yet my gaze upon the world, upon time, upon mankind—
Never changed.
Thus have I lived this life, my friend!
I believe life must be spent on beauty, not on envy, not on hatred. The soul is guarded by the beauty it carries within.
How does your sense of social responsibility inspire both your poetry and your scientific research?
The act of creating words is itself a responsibility.
Before being a poet or a scholar, I am a citizen.
This citizenship is at the heart of my poetry. Each book of mine carries poems devoted to my homeland.
During the occupation of Karabakh I wrote of longing; during the war, I wrote verses to inspire our soldiers, to breathe victory. On the very day Shusha was liberated, my poem Homeland, Rejoice was published.
I have written of the Syrian child who drowned while fleeing, of the Turkish earthquake victims, of the starving children south of the Sahara.
A poet must be the mirror of her age.
My scientific work is guided by the same responsibility: I research income growth, social justice, reducing inequality, strengthening social protection. Whatever I do, I do with love.
What colors have your travels and encounters with different cultures brought into your work?
Every journey enriches the human soul.
I have attended many festivals, met countless writers, and immersed myself in their cultures. Naturally, such encounters leave traces in my poetry. Yet my work remains deeply national in spirit—its fragrance is that of Turkic identity, which my philosophy of life is.
What spiritual and practical advice would you give to young women pursuing science and poetry?
To young women scholars: never tire of the path. Make science your way of life—only if you love it. For science is a demanding yet noble road.
To young women poets: read tirelessly, publish both at home and abroad, and represent our nation with dignity.
What principles guide your efforts in preserving and sharing national and spiritual values through writing and translation?
Preserving our values is the duty of every citizen.
I live them not only in my poetry but in my daily life. I even compiled the book Our National-Spiritual Values at Risk of Being Forgotten.
In translation, I hold to one principle—quality. Whether introducing Azerbaijani literature abroad or translating from world (especially Turkic) literature, I choose only true works of art.
What is your philosophy of happiness and balance in life?
For me, eternal happiness exists only in art.
In life, true lasting happiness is impossible, for we all lose loved ones along the way. Today, as I speak to you, marks twenty years since I lost my mother—how then can one be forever happy?
But fleeting happiness—yes. A kind word, a gentle compliment, may make a poet happy for an entire day.
At a certain age, peace of mind becomes more valuable than anything. And within me, the love of humanity itself gives me rest.
How do human psychology and emotions shape your work?
Critics say my poetry carries deep psychology.
Indeed, poetry must reach the deepest layers of human feeling.
It is the hidden driver of creation—emotions guide both subject and style.
Our works arise from observing glances, silences, gestures, from feeling others’ joys and sorrows as our own.
True writing is not mere description but the voice and color of our inner world. Above all—sincerity. Only sincerity can let a reader find themselves within your words.
How do you balance critical view with love and respect in science and poetry?
When one is honest, balance comes naturally.
To criticize is also to love. As Mirza Jalil and Mirza Alakbar Sabir showed—those who loved their nation most, criticized it most, for they wished to see no flaws in it.
I too am of that belief: I love my nation deeply, and wish to see it improve. Thus criticism runs through my science and my art alike.
What daily ritual gives you strength for creativity and research?
My strength comes from my daughter.
Each morning, I look into her eyes. In her gaze I forget all hardship. She is my reason to live.
As I wrote in my poem Sometimes Life:
Sometimes life
Walks upon me,
Burns and wears me down,
Tests the patience of my soul.
But from every corner of the world
My daughter’s eyes look back at me…
That ending speaks for itself. May God protect every child!
How should Azerbaijani literature find and preserve its voice in global cultural dialogue?
Through cultural self-awareness and professional presentation.
This is not only the duty of writers, but of translators, publishers, cultural institutions, and the diaspora.
We must keep national memory, folklore, history alive in our themes, and let translations carry the poetic spirit of our language.
Our works must be at international festivals, on digital platforms, in universities worldwide.
We need projects, reading nights, lectures, performances—even animated poems and podcasts—to reach the new generation.
How have your creative and scholarly paths shaped your personal and family life?
Creativity and science give much, but they also take.
Science especially demands daily devotion. At times, I have given my research the hours meant for my daughter. That pains me. Yet I explain to her: all that I have achieved has been by my own effort. She now understands.
Throughout life, I have chosen honesty and integrity above all. I have tried to pass this to my students as well.
And so, I believe, I have lived an honorable life.
Read: One Voice, Many Souls of Humanity
__________________
Jakhongir NOMOZOV is a young poet and journalist from Uzbekistan. He is also a Member of the Union of Journalists of Azerbaijan and the World Young Turkic Writers Union.



