Life
Often I suddenly start in fright,
Translated from Uzbek · Original text
Often I suddenly start in fright,A trembling plays through my whole being.There is a knocking at the door, an ominous knocking,I search within for a lamp that I have lit.Of the one who stands behind the doorI do not even want to know who he is.However colorful it may be, in life’sThorny garden I have no wish to laugh.I fear the one behind the door,As though he has come to take me away.I look at myself in the mirror,How colorless you are, O gray world!My heart is wounded — its blood is flowing,My ego tells its tales of baseness.The sighs and cries of the ailing spirit overflow,At times it longs for its journey’s end.I loved the beauties, becoming dust and straw,All leave one by one, the heart is a caravanserai.Inside, it filled up with cries,But there is always room for guests.Many have come and gone, but not oneSees the raw stuff of pain and grief.The host is generous and steadfast,He shows no one his laments.If this poor soul is trampled underfoot,If every passerby kicks him as he goes;Perhaps this is for the good, it is no wonder,If fate sifts him like this every day.So be it, you dandies, so be it, you who fly so high,So be it, you who could not bear the unveiling of secrets.You who pampered the world, who loved and embraced it,May tears one day water your eyes.For there is no good in eyes gone dry,They never light the chamber of the heart.You have no journey but to a single point,But may your heart one day bleed.Then life will appear before your eyes,Then you will hear a knock-knock at the door.Not wanting to leave, you will sigh and cry,But you will have no wish to stay either.Akrom MALIK
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