— POEM 𝒃𝒚 Shukur Shanol

Every day of my life,

Is in prostration…,

There’s a spring ahead,

Still stands a spring,

Not looking at winter or fall,

A dream builds a thousand dreams…

Nights and days know,

Nightingale ends his life,

Like a butterfly in the form of a flower,

Every day I prostrate to the power of God…

No one’s unmoved to a beautiful dream,

Love, where there is love,

There is neither charity nor donation,

The one, who understands it, goes immediately on the couch,

To the obedience of God,

Every day I prostrate to the power of God…

He never takes away his eyes from me,

Whether it’s day or night,

It doesn’t mean he loves me not; he doesn’t put himself there,

I don’t speak at all; I only love his words,

The one who loves is fond of the pain of separation,

Every day I prostrate to the power of God…

Those who trouble by the mane are not with a clear intention.

The sparrow resists, sometimes to storm, and to flood,

It is a ray of hope, sometimes even a leaf,

To the forest air, to the nature of the mountain.

Every day I prostrate to the power of God…

Whether facing rains of heavy cloud or strongly blowing winds,

Or surrounded by jackals, or the lion is roaring at them,

Someone who does not fit in the palace, or the roof,

And in perplexity wanders: What will happen to you?

He is looking at your destiny.

Every day I prostrate to the power of God…

The joy of life reminds one of spring in the heart,

Conscience will stop you in the way of good,

Angels light a candles for your reward,

To the most beautiful visit to the mother,

Every day I prostrate to the power of God…

The wild horses of the steppe, unsaddle and unstirruped,

See the eagle fluttering in the morning,

Color and new troubles filter out of sadness and sorrows,

To the wisdom of the poet in love with words and ideas,

Every day I prostrate to the power of God…

Her love in her heart for every inch and every stone,

I became a brave conqueror, the crown suits me very well,

Again silent, impatient, do the show again,

How the world changes, in the blink of an eye,

Every day I prostrate to the power of God…

….

(Self-translation from Azerbaijani)

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