The horrifying thing was this:
At the final stop, the poor man understood a truth.
Bahtiyar Hidayet
Bahtiyar Hidayet, born in 1974 in the Gazakh region of the Republic of Azerbaijan, graduated from university in 1995 and has been working as a history teacher since 1998. Wrote poetry since high school and has 4 poetry books published in Azerbaijan.
THE LAST STOP OF LIFE
The poor man, returning from hard work,
Would wake up at every stop.
… First, beside the maternity hospital,
Then, beside School No. N,
Then, beside the Military Commissariat,
Then, beside the Slave Market,
Later,
Beside the Civil Registry Office,
Then, beside the market, beside the police station,
And later, beside the courthouse.
Passing by the railway station, too,
He reached the final stop— beside the trash bin.
The horrifying thing was this:
At the final stop, the poor man understood a truth.
An old wall clock,
Which had no place even in the trash bin,
Was being urinated on by a stray dog
Lifting its leg,
As if giving time its due.
It was as though ointment
Had been applied to the wounds
On the poor man’s hands.
For in this country,
There was no one
Who would even piss on an injured finger!
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