Poems

Exile

When exile sparks like a storm
ends the open plain  of my calmness
when sadness like a crow,
in front of the door of my room,
stretches its wings and hovers:
I pick the  frozen-winged sparrow
of my grief,
I go, I go,
till i find a child
from they rays of his eyes
I remind the sparrow of grief how to fly.
Yet  my dear!
I have  often seen with my eyes
when children
grieve in this city
they come like little ducks
and take bath in the lake of your eyes.

Moscow 27/12/1975

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Comments (2)

Clancette Clift

Ah! now that I have read THIS poem, i feel that I see through a crack into the poets heart!
Is is possible for me to ask Abdulla Pashew if the sky poem was referring perhaps to the stars in the sky not just as stars, but as memories of the stars previously viewed in his homeland? together with the hopes and dreams that were born when he sat beneath them?

Clancette Clift

Ah! now that I have read THIS poem, i feel that I see through a crack into the poets heart!
Is is possible for me to ask Abdulla if the sky poem was referring perhaps to the stars in the sky not just as stars, but as memories of the stars previously viewed in his homeland? together with the hopes and dreams that were born when he sat beneath them?

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