Author: izgil

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

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

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

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

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