The night bus stop.
Waiting in the corner.
Smoke rises from my cigarette.
“Are you waiting for the 94?”
I shake my head.
I am
Seeking a mouthful of freedom.
The bus comes and goes.
Someone walks a dog.
Miserly streetlights share their light.
Cabs make a sign: where?
But this bench is enough for me.
“You will freeze by dawn,”
Whispers the breeze.
I smile and point to the sky:
I have my God up there!
From a nearby bar
The sound of a guitar,
Sweet.
I feel out the notes in my head.
I play…
As if lying on a beach
Sandy,
I play…
My palm dances in the air
I play…
Totally losing myself
I play…
Lancing the poison in my heart.
Can you try shooting now?
Past midnight,
A tramp comes,
Dragging his bag,
And sits silently.
An awful stench floods the area.
Thin like a stick,
With a wrinkled face.
I offer him tobacco
Then ask for a handful of his freedom.
Smiling, he offers me bread.
Yes, we each understand freedom differently…
I hardly breathe…
I stare at his yellow beard stuck with old food.
I ask:
“Who are you?”
He shows me the ground.
“Where are you coming from?”
He shows me the ground again.
“Where are you going?”
Again the ground…
“Well it seems
I understood nothing,” I say,
And eat the bread he gave.
It seems so delicious,
A poem flowing into my mind.
I open and close my eyes
And then –
See, the tramp has vanished.
Astaghfirullah!
Allah, Allah!
Astaghfirullah!
All is silent.
There is no love, no freedom, no happiness…
Loneliness and silence alone
Stay with me.
Then I realize that
Loneliness is the poet’s friend
He is born in loneliness,
He lives in loneliness,
He will die in loneliness…
The dawn.
A janitor
Notices me
And investigates:
“Who are you?”
And without hesitation
I show her the ground…
Jontemir (Born 1994) Uzbekistan
Translated by Shokhrukh Usmonov
Source: New East Digital Archive
Waiting in the corner.
Smoke rises from my cigarette.
“Are you waiting for the 94?”
I shake my head.
I am
Seeking a mouthful of freedom.
The bus comes and goes.
Someone walks a dog.
Miserly streetlights share their light.
Cabs make a sign: where?
But this bench is enough for me.
“You will freeze by dawn,”
Whispers the breeze.
I smile and point to the sky:
I have my God up there!
From a nearby bar
The sound of a guitar,
Sweet.
I feel out the notes in my head.
I play…
As if lying on a beach
Sandy,
I play…
My palm dances in the air
I play…
Totally losing myself
I play…
Lancing the poison in my heart.
Can you try shooting now?
Past midnight,
A tramp comes,
Dragging his bag,
And sits silently.
An awful stench floods the area.
Thin like a stick,
With a wrinkled face.
I offer him tobacco
Then ask for a handful of his freedom.
Smiling, he offers me bread.
Yes, we each understand freedom differently…
I hardly breathe…
I stare at his yellow beard stuck with old food.
I ask:
“Who are you?”
He shows me the ground.
“Where are you coming from?”
He shows me the ground again.
“Where are you going?”
Again the ground…
“Well it seems
I understood nothing,” I say,
And eat the bread he gave.
It seems so delicious,
A poem flowing into my mind.
I open and close my eyes
And then –
See, the tramp has vanished.
Astaghfirullah!
Allah, Allah!
Astaghfirullah!
All is silent.
There is no love, no freedom, no happiness…
Loneliness and silence alone
Stay with me.
Then I realize that
Loneliness is the poet’s friend
He is born in loneliness,
He lives in loneliness,
He will die in loneliness…
The dawn.
A janitor
Notices me
And investigates:
“Who are you?”
And without hesitation
I show her the ground…
Jontemir (Born 1994) Uzbekistan
Translated by Shokhrukh Usmonov
Source: New East Digital Archive
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