USMON AZIM, national poet and playwright. Worked for many publishing houses, editorial offices, and cooperated with national theatres. He has so many books of poetry to his credit. His works have been translated into many foreign languages. “Suffering of awakening” was a boom in Uzbek poetry in its time.
CIRCUS. A SNAKE TRAINER
I don’t tell you and you don’t listen,
Why, which day, of whom I made a fun?
Don’t stay in yard as autumn vision,
I loved a snake but not you at a run.
When springs upon me as a pined lover,
With the body girdle my white waist,
I insensibly my eyes with tear cover,
Embraced to my visage cold face.
From the moon belt fallen at the light,
With the reason trembled blood in vein.
Being worried of my sole blast
I supposed that came my faithful snake.
The snake will give me not in exchange,
Just loves me and more greater nothing wants.
She has only honor, no revenge,
And will never leave me for the lots.
Oneness is to be with everyone,
May my burner also stays with all.
Being merciful gives calming none,
May she asking love the snake recall…
Snake! My associate of solitude,
Lies as being round on my feet.
Hey, the man that sighing in the street,
Don’t look at lights midnight in nude.
Your words are sharp-cut and a phrase is question,
I haven’t answer, soul became vague.
Believe, I also have a tender passion,
If you don’t, you may ask the shake…
I don’t know, of which mind I am weeping,
Odor of the cold wind in my face.
Gracious me, which days are quickly creeping,
Snaky arms are girdling my white waist.
Translated by Azam AbidovHits: 2228