BAHTIYAR HIDAYET

 

1

 

On the clothesline, clothespins like musical notes,

And a couple of women’s underthings.

But I say—

Why does that yellow rooster

Crow so relentlessly?

 

2

 

While he was fencing

Out of poverty, he used stakes instead of poles

And used a few acacia trees as stakes

 

Then he went to war

Returned with shrapnel in his body

 

Meanwhile, the acacias, tightly wrapped with wire,

Had their bark torn and the wire had entered inside them

Now the acacias were eating the wire, squeezing it

 

The acacias resembled their owner

As if they had shrapnel in their bodies too

And they were feeding off that shrapnel

Thus meeting their iron needs without tiring their roots

 

He too fed on the shrapnel

As a war veteran, with 80 AZN per month

 

One day, due to debt,

His gas was cut off

He chopped the acacias as firewood

 

He burned the acacias as firewood

The shrapnel in the acacias was melting from the heat

But the shrapnel in his body gave off even more chill

 

3

 

For Jennifer Lopez

 

In your underwear photo

You affect the human subconscious.

Your body is like an ancient hourglass,

And you — a modern lady,

Time itself grows old, but you do not.

 

Your body is like an hourglass,

You have as many admirers as grains of sand.

 

Your body is like an hourglass,

The pulse of those who love you

Is measured by their wristwatches.

 

Your body is like an hourglass,

Wall clocks have grown old,

Now the hands of those clocks

Are like old men walking on three legs.

 

You are also like wine —

As the years pass, your quality increases,

And you drive people crazy.

 

Your voice, however,

Is melodious like the sound of a clock.

 

4

 

On the clothesline, over the underwear she had hung,

The husbandless bride who always laid another piece of clothing

 

That day she was praying

To a famous singer

Whom we always saw in underwear

The singer, on some sacred day,

In the name of God,

Had opened a charity table

 

The husbandless bride had brought food from the mosque for her orphans

The orphans finally ate meat until they were full

 

And then used that clothesline

Like a volleyball net

They were playing very clumsily

The ball was often going into aut

The ball was going into aut —

like the life of this husbandless bride

 

BAHTIYAR HIDAYET