On its forehead a trace of soil I read its crooked mouthspoke the holes of its eyeslistened to its icy handslived its entire life once throughravenouslyhesitantly On the soles of its feet the mark of stones 12 February 2020, Fairfax translated from the Uyghur by Joshua L. Freeman
Somewhere Else
Besieged by these discolored wordswithin all these disordered momentsthe target on my foreheadcould not bring me to my kneesand alsonight after nightone after anotherI spoke the names of ants I’ve known I thought of staying wholeby the road or somewhere elseEvencliffs grow tired staring into the distanceButin my thoughts I trimmed your ragged hairwith two… Continue reading
Sitting in the Sun
Tahir Hamut Izgil Why can’t my right hand hold the airit must be losing lifeand on the balcony the sun spins through the sky Now I’ll never mention wellspringsfor better or for worsebut light recedes from the trees below I’ve piled certainties beside metossed probabilities down belowand closed myself completely Oh foolish disciples near and farOh… Continue reading
Your Unknown Place
Tahir Hamut izgil Here people’s names were not contagious,we said they were, it came to be.There was no sand here growing roots,we said there was, it came to be.Here time did not drip from the walls,we said it did, it came to be.Here loneliness did not multiply,we said it did, it came to be.Here a… Continue reading
The Women’s Prison
Tahir Hamut Izgil Autumn was a jumble of colorsstaining our clothes as we walked the roadIn the clay-bedded stream beside usGod’s cold water was flowingIn the water swirled leaves with holesWe passed a wide bare enclosureA red light on the gate was shining like SatanQasimjan pointed—That’s the women’s prisonHis friend Rozakhun grinned—I wouldn’t mind being… Continue reading
ASÉNA
A piece of my fleshtorn away.A piece of my bonebroken off.A piece of my soulremade.A piece of my thoughtset free. In her thin handsthe lines of time grow long.In her black eyesfloat the truths of stone tablets.Round her slender necka dusky hair lies knotted.On her dark skinthe map of fruit is drawn. Sheis a raindrop… Continue reading
NYT Review:A Uyghur’s Lament for a Persecuted People
By Barbara Demick In his memoir, “Waiting to Be Arrested at Night,” the poet Tahir Hamut Izgil evokes the fear and danger of daily life for a Chinese ethnic minority that has been the target of a brutal crackdown. Real the full article at nytimes.com
Izgil at 2025 PEN World Voices Festival: Writing as Resistance
Through the mediums of memoir and poetry, Uyghur poet and memoirist Tahir Hamut Izgil and Iraqi American poet Dunya Mikhail challenge dominant political narratives and preserve stories of displacement, exile and perseverance. In his memoir, Waiting to Be Arrested at Night, Izgil documents the Chinese government’s persecution of the Uyghur people and his time in a labor camp. In Mikhail’s… Continue reading
About Tahir Hamut Izgil
Tahir Hamut Izgil is a foremost contemporary Uyghur poet, filmmaker, and writer, originally from Kashgar, the cultural heart of the Uyghur homeland. After earning his degree from Minzu University of China in Beijing, he became a prominent film director in the region. He also contributed significantly to Uyghur literature through his published poetry collections, literary critiques, and translations… Continue reading
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