Return to Kashgar

Tahir Hamoot

Translated by Aypalta

Looking at Kashgar’s mysterious and strange appearance
I shivered with the fear of great nights.
Married girls, died friends, dry spring.
Eyes are a pinchfull of earth that lost from the Earth:
TV, tobacco, dirty socks, original of translation.
I dimly remember the blue bridge and vegetable market,
I lay down like a monster without bones,
I am hungry, black – faced, empty – minded!
But in Far Urumqi someone chews the icy stone,
Eyes, face are wet, sin before him and God in the back.
Transparent steams come out of candy – added gruel,
Sparrows slowly walk on the electricity lines,
Horror is serious on the low sky,
Poor old men, crazy young men, curious children,
They all grew old in three years.
Kashgar is a moment that is touch and go,
Paper that attached to the face of sun, permanent black ink,
Old, infected wound, poor love.
But, you
Throwing the wind onto sky,
You looked at me,
In our thoughts rain drops from the holes like coins.

March, 1998. Kashgar