Say goodbye to our courtyard.
Tomorrow we’re setting out on the road,
leaving our little courtyard to be demolished.
Our childhood will never return.
The tired dust settles
on the window in mourning for the house.
I draw in it on the glass,
goodbye my little world.
Spring rests on the steps,
there are so many songs and words on spring,
I just want you to blossom –
goodbye mama of the cats.
Trash near the window warms the bones.
The old hut leaned,
I’m in love with this courtyard’s junk,
good trash – I wish you too goodbye.
On the window in mourning for the house
the tired dust settles:
I draw in it on the glass –
goodbye my little world.
Anonymous (20th century) Turkmenistan
Translation not stated
Source: Poetry from Turkmenistan, Index on Censorship, Volume 35 Issue 3, August 2006
Tomorrow we’re setting out on the road,
leaving our little courtyard to be demolished.
Our childhood will never return.
The tired dust settles
on the window in mourning for the house.
I draw in it on the glass,
goodbye my little world.
Spring rests on the steps,
there are so many songs and words on spring,
I just want you to blossom –
goodbye mama of the cats.
Trash near the window warms the bones.
The old hut leaned,
I’m in love with this courtyard’s junk,
good trash – I wish you too goodbye.
On the window in mourning for the house
the tired dust settles:
I draw in it on the glass –
goodbye my little world.
Anonymous (20th century) Turkmenistan
Translation not stated
Source: Poetry from Turkmenistan, Index on Censorship, Volume 35 Issue 3, August 2006
It's been a while since I've been active in the blogosphere, and coming back to your page reminds me of how much I missed these wonderful poetry discoveries. This anonymous poem captures the bittersweet ache of leaving a piece of your past behind so perfectly. A truly wonderful pick!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much - I'm pleased you liked it.
Delete