| Bahtiyar Hidayet, Azerbaijan – new poem |
Curse me, beggar.
–
Oh, beggar woman,
Don’t pray for me.
If your prayers had any power,
you wouldn’t be a beggar yourself.
Curse me if you can.
–
Because I’m in a worse situation than you.
My salary ran out in four days.
Loans, fines, taxes, weddings, medical treatment – that’s it.
–
Now I don’t even have the money I had.
Unfortunately, there’s no place to beg –
every place already has its own beggar.
–
It’s the big, big beggars who have put us in this beggarly situation:
this is bribery, this is corruption
–
Look at the bird market opposite.
There’s grain in front of the chickens in the cage,
and the free sparrows are running towards those cages.
Look – I’m in the same situation as those sparrows.
Happy swallows and cranes have fled this land.
–
But I have hope.
In the neighbor’s yard,
I will mow the grass.
–
Curse me, beggar woman.
Curse me, let my Azrael come.
Let Azrael come with a sickle in his hand.
Let him help me a little –
I will mow the grass in the neighbor’s yard.
