Faith
Let me die. Take all of life for yourself.
Translated from Uzbek · Original text
Let me die. Take all of life for yourself.The tears are mine. For you — the smile.If you take up dust, may it turn to gold, and lawful too,May you not know, even for a moment, what sorrow is.Load all the sins upon my shoulders,Live upon the throne of all the good deeds.You yourself are His Majesty, O noble one,Spread a carpet of flowers for yourself.Look, the key to paradise is in your pocket,Show it to no one, hide it from them all.Among people, we are the dogs of the street,If you toss us a bone, we gnaw it with delight.Run with all your might, reach greatness,Do not be left without a place at the blessed table.Do not look back, go further on,And let us never climb out of the deep pit.Look at no one, never cast a glance,Let your march forward never turn back.Otherwise it will become plain to all the worldThat you look down on a black slave like us.Think us base, disdain us, kick us, trample us,That is the most fitting courtesy for us.While you go flying high above the Throne,Live happily, driving spears into our breasts.I hold no grudge against you — believe it, without a doubt,I have only one single plea:Burn mercilessly in the fire of regret,But never find so much as my shadow!..My Lord, show a wonder to the one who has been wronged,Answer this prayer of mine!Akrom MALIK
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