The Picture Of The Silence
The birds remained hanging in the water
And the fishes in the water,
Early in the morning
Horizon passed away here.
The trees have become dry
Bending their top
In the place
Where the wind drove them out.
An autumn flower blossomed,
The slopes have become touched.
The clouds are hanging heavily
Towards the earth.
The color of the silent water in the sea
Has become turbid.
The surface of the sun is gloomy
The shoulders of the soil are tired.
The life is in its eternal silence
With its dumb scenes.
I wonder how the world seems oddly
In its coffin made of glass.
Autumn
It was raining again, it was charming night
There was no walking , no noise in the street
The city was so strange , the outdoor was so sad
Autumn say me : die
from grieving and dying on
The street headlight lowering the head
annoying cloud on the asphalt
Drops are playing on
the pond
Poetry begins on the pedestal
The drops banish away one by one on the window glass
The sleepless city is rubbing eyes
The moon was hidden
somewhere , its shadow was
playing on water
My poetic heart get
excited now
It was raining again, it was charming night
There was no walking , no noise in the street
The city was so strange , the outdoor was so sad
Autumn say me : die
from grieving and dying on
Praising
Of Stone
Don’t hurt feelings of stone calling a cruel man as “
stone”,
There is a such stone centuries beat it, don’t touch that
stone!
If you work for the stone, it will appreciate you,
There is such word if told to a stone, it will melt, heart won’t care it!
Those what a human being forgets, the memory of stone
doesn’t forget,
There are those who throw stones unfairly, the unfair stone
isn’t thrown.
Tell your dreams to the flowing waters and tell your secret
to a black stone,
Stone- is your friend at the end of life and it is brother
of your grave.
The locked doors were opened after we knocked them with
stones,
The stones built our houses, stones run off from our ways.
My friend, strange man can’t bear to listen to our grief,
but stones listen to,
Stones shed tears for the motion of life, stones whines for
grief of life.
Some people earn money by cutting stones,
At the end we harden like stones, at times stones disgust
us.
The leaves, flowers fade away and stones are left on the
hearth
The stone of thousand years makes the history remember us.
Tarana Turan Rahimli
Dr. Tarana Turan Rahimli is an Azerbaijani poet, writer, journalist,
translator, literary critic, teacher, academic, is an active member of the
International Literary Agency in Azerbaijan and Turkey. She is a PhD in
Philology, Associate Professor of Azerbaijan and World Literature Chair of
Azerbaijan State Pedagogical University, author of 7 books and more than 400
articles. She is the editor and reviewer of 20 monographs and poetry books.The
work has been published in more than 25 Western and Eastern countries. She is
works were published in Azerbaijan, England, Italy, Spain, USA, Germany,
Belgium, Chile, Turkey, Russia, Romania, India, Ukraine, Kazakhstan, Mexico,
Poland, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Kosovo, Oman, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Saudi
Arabic and other countries. Poems and articles have been published in many international
sites around the world, on periodicals and in anthologies.