Tahir Hamut Izgil
Why can’t my right hand hold the air
it must be losing life
and on the balcony the sun spins through the sky
Now I’ll never mention wellsprings
for better or for worse
but light recedes from the trees below
I’ve piled certainties beside me
tossed probabilities down below
and closed myself completely
Oh foolish disciples near and far
Oh basket carriers of water from cloud to cloud
Carry on your conversation and don’t block out my sun
12 May 2018, Virginia
translated from the Uyghur by Joshua L. Freeman