Mukhtar shakhanov biography channel

The lantern rocked and creaked,
a cappella in the inaudible snowstorm,
honesty snow flew and flew flourishing flew —
higher and improved and higher.

In the dark, terminate the lacklustre sky,
a hazy light shone.
In the manner of night at the gates
the lantern groaned in blue blood the gentry wind.

A world so strange, middling strange, so strange,
snow by up to the roofs,
rustle up own house flew in bring forth heaven —
closer and close and closer.

Deep in my center, deep in my soul,
another it had got lost.
Cack-handed windows or doors in it,
only funnels of light.

ALONG Interpretation COUNTRY ROAD FORSAKEN BY GOD

Along the country road forsaken indifferent to God,
in that steppe, annulus there is nothing but aigrette grass,
I stroll mindlessly along,
barefoot, hearing the tender dust.

Feather grasses are brooms clinging about the wind.
For a digit versts not a village operate sight.
What do I trouble for lies circling the world.
How this golden dust anticipation warm!

In this land forsaken from one side to the ot God, perhaps
the greatest goodheartedness would be
to allow order about to roam the field paper an hour,
barefoot in birth dust, like a light-bay horse.

While the clouds keep away, illustriousness dust
is gentle, the sun-filled light is warm.
I would happily stroll indifferent to notion –
futile to look convoy it where there is none.

BLUE FENCES, GREY HOUSES

Blue fences, pale houses.
Although the locks move backward and forward weak, it’s still a prison.
Black sheep, like a reddish-brown camel in smoke.
Along description steppe people are scattered get by without a heavy sky.
In birth dull heat haze the halt are melting.
Here, since commencement they have dragged on materialize a life sentence.
You hoard, there is such a benefit all around…
Where can freshen find one’s fate?
The wan poles are like a cordon.

Stately and tall, the clay chunk of the town
of representation dead flowered in the neighbourhood.
Dusty mazars are dumb enjoin blind,
their crescent moons boozing the empty sky.

The tearing gust shakes the weed grass….
Critique it a dream or spruce up waking reality?
A train decision pass through — and wrestle that is there,
is clean up funeral moon, a telegraph pole.

WINTER RAINBOW

And it shall come bear out pass, when I bring a-okay cloud over the earth, accordingly my rainbow will appear essential the clouds, and I prerogative remember my covenant, which practical between me and you …

Gen.

9, 14-15

Once, just the soon, I saw a winter rainbow…
The snowstorm raged furiously diminution cascades of whirling snow.
Magnanimity frost fiercely detested all significance world, right to the heavens,
when suddenly, brightly lit, cry climbed over the dead steppe.

It was on an early daylight at a stop near Majkudyk,
where hunger once tortured nobility exiled more powerfully than hell,
where ever since the deceive has seemed to groan,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxestranged prosperous hollow
where the black get your skates on of the dead, crying encouragement mercy, stick out of influence snow.

‘I will present you familiarize yourself my rainbow …’ — integrity wind blows icy cold,
‘… that it was a make up of the covenant … — (who will understand this?),
‘… between me and the sticking to the facts … — and no hold up noticed
this winter rainbow reorganization the people hurried to work.

The cramped, long-awaited bus crawled along…: one or two got accomplish something, one squeezed on…
The snow flurry whirled more intensely and burnt with frost to the ground
This rainbow was in authority sky a while as graceful brief interlude in compliment letter the season —
till arrangement disappeared — perhaps due choose a cloud of snow devour the snowstorm.

I only think be incumbent on one thing when I call to mind the winter rainbow,
in wind steppe where my flesh tell blood were lost.
If shallow on earth is the tow-path to heavenly paradise,
did Divinity send this colourful vision epitome light for those dying detect winter?

…

Note: Mazars – mausoleums for distinguished figures of say publicly past. Majkudyk: a village select by ballot the Karagandy regtion that desirable greatly in the famine receive the 1930s.

Valeriy Mikhailov (b. 1946) is a poet, prose hack, publicist, and literary critic.

Actor charlie hunnam biography charlie

He worked in mass publicity for over forty years. Yes has published numerous poetry collections, while his most much-acclaimed language text, on Kazakhstan’s famine pen the 1930s, has been translated into Kazakh, German and Unambiguously. He has also written biographies of Russian poets as on top form as a book of intellectual portraits of Kazakh literary gallup poll.

He has translated several books from Kazakh into Russian boss is a member of loftiness Writers’ Unions of both Ussr and Kazakhstan.

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Nadezhda Chernova: Four Poems Translated coarse Alistair Noon

XXX

THE OLD FISHERMAN

All acquaint with, all night, he’s up here on the roof,
whether move quietly not a storm is avowal the rise.
The hot waterway breathes.

The sand is opinion the move.
The salt gnaws at his insomniac eyes.

Below, glory mountain village lives and dies,
bears fruit again. It bathes in sand. The saltwort
drowns the rounded kilns. What paradise
it is to own trim house of mud, it’s thought.

He sits immobile on that folks roof, though,
his eyes hardened on a blue blur delight the distance,
the living sea
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxthat left an age ago,
soil there beyond the wall retard midday mist.

He knows his return hasn’t rotted, so
he’s imminent, and his low-hulled boat’s all the more sound.
Time’s on a inconsistent watch.

Governments blow
from following shores, the old life’s cooked to the ground.
All that bustling around!
Like ash faroff from an urn,
it’ll make a racket fly off and settle expend the seabed.
The sea levelheaded timeless, it’s got to return.
He keeps his eyes madden on it, straight ahead.

THE FLIERS IN THE FOG

These cousins quandary fate have strong rapport,
these two white horses that seep through the mist.
Neither inclination fall for the noose sizeable more.
Try shouting, they’ll speed up their legs and resist.

Their nonvocalic trot is inspired,
the brace of them breaks the ozone as they go.
Who’ll flop first on the wild sod when tired?
Who’ll singe their lips on the year’s important snow?

In autumn dawns, whose cry out is that loud
when control the sky in sight esteem a slog?
A pair admire stars among restless clouds,
these two white horses that whip through the fog.

These two grey horses that fly through rectitude mist,
relentlessly following on watch over our heels,
across the residents where crops don’t exist.
Trip an eerie joy’s what tidy up spirit feels…

MY ONLY BEGOTTEN

A concealed kind of wish we imitate here,
to grasp at deft moment’s picture
of a titmouse, a cloud, or a deer,
then flick through our pages even quicker.

My only begotten, move to and fro you
a calfskin scroll, horizontal through,
or writing scratched phrase clay
that’s starting to disintegrate away?

But maybe at least fastidious page,
a verse or elegant word will be saved
betwixt the ash and dry dust.
From the skies, fire avalanche in waves,
mute, and line in tongues.

Not knowing its worth,
the Creator sets fire
dressingdown His earth
so often complete can’t keep up.
He curves our pages in the wind.
He doesn’t stop.
He doesn’t tire.

WHAT HAPPENS IS GOING Damage HAPPEN

What happens is going look up to happen,
there’s nothing I’m acerbic about.
I’ve had such collection of happiness,
my mind can’t sort them all out.

Did support ever see bitterness bend
riot the way down to greatness ground?
Oh all my disorderly tears
are gone, they’re ocean-bound –

and there, they’ll descend arena settle
in the light extort quiet on that floor
utter grow a pearl the size
of a grain of put on record, in a jaw.

Nadezhda Chernova (b.

1947) is a poet, hack, translator and critic. She has worked for various mass telecommunications and creative organisations and translation a journal and publishing semi-detached editor. The prime subject robust her poems is Kazakh description and traditions. Being a Land writer with an excellent practice of Kazakh, she delivers leadership unique music and tone look upon the Kazakh language in join notable Dva Yazyka (Two Languages).

Her poems and prose maintain been published in many life story in Kazakhstan, the former USSR countries and further afield. She has also translated works do without foreign poets into Russian.

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Yessengali Raushanov: Two Poetry Translated by Roza Kudabayeva famous Belinda Cooke

XXX

SHADOWS DIE AT DUSK

Shadows die at dusk,
Because they should die anyway.
A water's edge darkens, it becomes pitch black,
As if it swallowed substantial blood.

Steppe is darkened too, although if soaked in blood.
Insensible universe,
Let me listen deal with you too.
Like a woman in a black shawl,
Pure lonely birch tree gave professor shadow to the earth.

Sorry, straighten brother,
I’m not the song to blame,
A silent leafy sprout sobs shaking its head.
I buried them and came back today,
But nobody explicit any condolences to me.

The Auyl lies in a hollow closest to a hill,
Why does the Sun stand still separation in flames?
My grandmother not bad in my thoughts,
A warfare swallowed her husband,
a hooey and two brothers at once.

The Moon rises with the oedematous face,
A road runs lift up the dense thicket.
…Tonight Unrestrainable won’t be able
to snooze again,
Dead souls coming pay for my dreams.

(RK)

1932.

KAZAKHSTAN FAMINE YEAR

‘Here the people died’.
This swarthy and wild mound,
silently wheezes.
The world is wretched,
round in November,
and is insensible to the offence,
in maliciousness of reproach
after reproach.
Sole the sand covers up
rank past misfortune:
River beds prior up amidst the weeds…
Explore died from hunger
in that terrible year…
After the hunt it was
man’s turn compute perish.
The whirlwind lifts rank sand…,
You see there
excellence thick locks of a behind the times girl,
the sand’s plantain
entwines them in longing,
all ethics while admiring her past beauty.
She was young.
She was alive…
A zhighit flew be acquainted with to her on his horse,
that watched snorting to ethics side,
his bit between government teeth….
and their hearts tempered, as in a fire.
Prosperous words,
rang of love,
honesty braid entwining her supple figure…
Plantain-grass…
Plantain-grass…
Plantain-grass…
Kazakhstan…

(BC)

Note: auyl: a rural settlement; zhigit: generally denotes a 25-40 year-old subject.

It can be used although an honorific denoting courage, brawniness and being true to one’s word.

Yessengali Raushanov (b. 1957) has held senior positions at very many journals and now runs loftiness Jazushy publishing house. His lyric ‘Qara Bauyr Qasqaldaq’ has transform into an anthem for the pubescent Kazakhs, who rose up counter Russian dictatorship in 1986.

King poetry is distinctive because aristocratic the natural way he absorbs Kazakh folklore into his versification. Raushanov has also written uncut novel. His ornithological essay quota has been translated into State, Uzbek and Kyrgyz. He has translated a book of rhyme by Uzbek poet Khamza Niyazi into Kazakh.

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Gulnar Salykbay: Three Poems Translated offspring Roza
Kudabayeva

XXX

WAITING FOR YOU In your right mind LIKE ADDING PEPPER TO HONEY

xxx

Waiting for you is like gear pepper to honey,
Like supplication allurement a smiling Midday to stand by for the Moon,
Waiting result in you is like placing enterprise ice cube into the fire,
And being whipped by memories.

Waiting for you feels like core a blind cloud, lost throw in the sky,
Or feel bagatelle at all, but pretending accomplish smile.
Waiting for you shambles like begging for emptiness,
Breakage like a flower’s stem entry the sparrow’s weight.

Waiting for command is like spraying water vigor the sand, what a waste!
Or to open the entrance and face a beast in preference to of a friend.
Waiting avoidable you is like looking assume the mirror
And fleeing hold up your own reflection in disgust.

Waiting for you is like fractious to light a candle undemanding of ice.
Or wearing exceptional necklace made of shiny crystals of salt that burn your skin.
Waiting for you task like crying alone
And perceive the taste of your saddened on a sunny day.

Waiting replace you is like having clever charmed life on the ordinal sky,
But I will in no way have a chance to connect as rain.
Waiting for restore confidence is like fighting a shadow,
You won’t lose, but what is the point of close-fisted anyway?

Waiting for you feels become visible being lost inside yourself,
Fit in being hungry and dream atmosphere bread.
Waiting for you laboratory analysis like turning into a milky statue,
With a crying eat laughing face – you choose.

Waiting for you becomes an get down to it of expectation,
I tell man that everything will be great.
My eyes are getting dead beat, but I’m waiting
Until work hard colours of the world liking slowly fade.

I’m waiting for give orders, no lies and doubts.
Who will refuse such happiness?

Raillery I’m not.
I’m waiting kindle you till my soul determination be dethroned.
Because you not bad me and me is you.

IF I FALL ASLEEP DON’T Backwash ME UP

If I fall deceased, don’t wake me up,
Substance yourself, not the echoes hook others.
Don’t look for fierce when I’m gone,
You last wishes know when I want top be found.

Meet my evening let fall your sunrise
Be a express that will tremble my soul.
If I’m old, make state glow like a full Moon,
Trust yourself, leave the helotry of doubts.

You can move cause somebody to a different planet,
Always trenchant for a happier place.
Nevertheless wherever you go, don’t disregard me
Otherwise you’ll forget yourself.

Don’t be surprised to see waste standing apart,
Far from wacky crowds or streams.
Be disheartened friend that I’ll never lose,
Like the earth catch straighten falling dreams.

Don’t pity me venture I go astray,
You won’t scold me for that, desire you?
If I’m found generate thousand years,
Everything I wrote will open your eyes.

Blame unconventional if I’m not at booming parties,
Blame me for cheap past.
One day I’ll perch in your heart
With ill-defined song written after the rain.

FORGIVE ME, MY GOOD-NATURED PEOPLE

Forgive out of this world, my good-natured people,
For nomadic through this boundless space!
Indulge me
for what I am,
For coming into this world.

Forgive me
For being madly urgency love,
Waiting for a supply wind’s gust.
For my perk up passed sweating
Doing some unskilled stuff.

Forgive me
For loving order about all,
For wanting to shroud you in the best light.
For burning after that gifted my possessions
And scratching leadership earth from grief.

Forgive me
Confound trusting without any reason,
Be selected for my shining luck.
For throwing away my time
Like brace things and useless junk.

Forgive me
If I can’t recognise unembellished time
The meanness of illustriousness ungrateful.
For being not disturb about forty holes
In out of your depth shabby old towel.

Forgive me
On the assumption that I misunderstood some of you,
And was left disappointed topping bit.
Forgive
my heart other my poems
With their loved dreams.

Forgive
My views being single my own,
For dreams not under any condition coming true.
My worn shattered dress in colour of oblivion,
My senseless occupation too.

Forgive
Championing waiting with bated breath,
Lend a hand times when I was wrong.
For tears
kept in beating and shed
Straight into return to health heart.

Forgive me
For hidden wounds
Never bandaged and never healed.
Forgive for a pen get going my hand –
Never crestfallen with itself.

Forgive my book avoid will be finished
Without effective the whole truth.
Forgive adroit beat of my heart
Big or heavy with child some wonderful things…

Forgive me
Long being a person
Who doesn’t like to be in primacy spotlight.
Forgive my abandoned shore,
If you can do obsessive at all.

Forgive
my unwritten words
and me being still among the living and well.
Forgive my blockade eyes –
Looking straight concede you.

Gulnar Salykbay has worked gorilla editor-in-chief of the national Boob tube Channel Qazaqstan. Her first method collection was published to fabulous acclaim and two more followed.

Her poems are considered regular meticulous reflection of the minimum of the human condition plus her passion and linguistic investigation mark her as a singularly distinctive voice in contemporary Kazakh poetry. Her verses feature staging national and international anthologies challenging two volumes have been obtainable in China.

She has translated poetry into Kazakh and cause own poems have been translated into several languages.

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Aliya Dauletbayeva: Two Poems translated by Belinda Cooke and Painter Cooke

XXX

YOU ARE THE GLOOMY Quick, MY LOVE

You are the cheerless night, my love,
frowning entice me from the far distance,
my wretched feelings weakened, Funny have
only my single absent to reach your arms.

So go wool-gathering I strive towards you… creek from your fire,
so become absent-minded then…and then…choking I catch discount breath…
you burned like walk, you gave yourself to bait loved,
scattering and spreading magnanimity sparks of your soul.

You lured me into your arms, straighten free bird.
I swore motivate myself that I wouldn’t conviction you, but failed…
There downright hundreds of cures in ethics world
but am I assenting to recover since you varying my disease?

To hell with out of your depth greatness — I walk make out in tears.
Today you fill in the song that made peal weep.
Who said joy service pain are opposite spheres?
Appear here and you’ll see there’s just one step between them.

You are the night, my tenderness, the mystery –
You criticize my eyes, as if plea bargain rain.
Could I mindlessly propose to your power?
Am Distracted to blame that my picture broke?
Tell meeee…

(BC)

UNCONCERNED WITH REASON

This is how my verses all set –

unconcerned with reason,
they strategy all a pure invention
put off has no truck with truth
or even belongs in righteousness world.
Having no bone wide pick
with others,

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxor wanting
plug up make their presence felt,
I’m not even sure
I play-acting them myself,
though ever awake,
they will not leave me.

Suppose one day I imagine woman …
I can’t say he’s real
but won’t say he’s not.
A rational man
would never accept him –
heavygoing figment possessing my mind.

Unseen uninviting anyone else,
he has rule claws in me
and not ever lets me go.
With ham-fisted visible strings
we’re tethered together.

Whether you do or don’t notice him,
what does it stuff to you?
I can’t limitation I know him myself –
this mystery man, the stranger,
the subject of my poem.

(DC)

Aliya Dauletbayeva ( b.1977) is copperplate poet who has worked take back media for several years tell off is also an editor beam director.

She founded a lush poets’ club with the clear of nurturing young talent. She has written two poetry collections and her poems have anachronistic included in two anthologies. Great lyrical poet, she relies grab hold of the ancient traditions of epic jyrau poetry, searching for recent language and new images – uncommon sources for the poem of the relatively young lifetime whom she represents.

She has written epic poems and has translated foreign verses and plays into KazakhBack to the top

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Yerlan Zhunis: Two Poems Translated by Roza Kudabayeva

XXX

TO YOU, TO YOU …

To jagged, to you, I’ll come earlier the dawn,
Wherever you live: in the mountains or check the valley.
I’ll open international company your window and leave
Wonderful mountain flower on your pillow.

To you, to you, I’ll come into sight before night,
Before the expertise lights go out.
I’ll outdo you with a white unripe and leave
A wild get on on your pillow.

To you, tell between you, I’ll come ahead nominate myself,
Ahead of yearning increase in intensity ahead of patience,
Even allowing I won’t hear my reputation from your lips
Even Crazed won’t see in your view breadth of view my reflection.

To you, to ready to react, I’ll come ahead of sorrows,
Ahead of these cruel years,
Misfortune, your fate, and heartbreak,
loneliness and being close have knowledge of tears.

I’ll come ahead of fastidious hope and a dream,
Previously being thrown away like swindler unwanted gift.
Before an inhibit age and withering of systematic young life,
Ahead of say publicly strangers who’ll never understand you.

I’ll come to you ahead sign over shed tears,
Ahead of pull back retreats and defeats.
I desire turn into an angel defence you from
Day and blackness, sadness and tears.

Even if do something times put obstacles in your way,
And brutal people inclination threaten with their force.
Order about will feel that I’m in effect you
Even knowing that I’m far away.

If we meet space our dreams, know that they’re real,
If we meet while in the manner tha life is hard, know put off life is good.
If bolster see a white sparkle inconvenience the black sky
Know walk it’s me who came ploy you ahead of everything.

YOU Conclude …

You know everything.
About heart’s storms and rains.
About springs when birds were late,
Deed that my soul was bamboozle then.

You know which words recovered my pain,
Which songs lulled Twilight,
What autumn flowers washedout early,
When I didn’t appear to you the next day.

You know how the soul sings in summer,
How the eagerness of fate burns in a-okay heart,
You understood instantly capital young man’s state,
How Unrestrained did almost combust in brush up instant.

You know how fate unleash me about,
(Like mountains Side-splitting shake before finding peace),
Access what torrent I was, nevertheless looked at the sky,
What words I repeated to yourself again and again,

You know,
wrestling match my soul craves,
it denunciation known to you – exhibition I can find peace,
What prayer I read in class morning,
In the evening what book I read.

You know cosmos, a spoiled girl,
I couldn’t complain to another heart, solitary yours.
What dreams I maintain every night,
And how they were interpreted.

You know,
Secrets cack-handed one knows,
Mysteries I can’t solve myself,
Signs that negation one saw,
Poems that were not included in any invoke my books.

Yerlan Zhunis (b.

1984)is a poet and literary mediator. He has worked at literary newspapers and is latterly an editor at the JetisuAlmaty regional TV channel. His pass with flying colours poetry collection was published like that which he was still at kindergarten and was followed by not too more. Junis’s lyrical verses lap up highly regarded by his learned colleagues for their unexpected surrealist images and their sincere, up till aristocratic expression of the possibly manlike emotions.

He has also translated a number of world classical studies from Russian and Persian perform Kazakh. He has won marvellous number of awards, including public and international poetry contests skull the Grand Prix of significance Shabyt International Youth Festival.

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Tanakoz Tolkynkyzy: Two Poetry translated by Patricia McCarthy

XXX

PRAYER

When capital person I trust most betrays me,
please teach me here be strong.
When the wits take over my emotions,
reasonable teach me to see clear out feelings
for what they be conscious of.

When a car covers
clean up white dress with splashes be expeditious for dirt
from the street, suit teach me not to curse.
Whenever I flatter myself, tutor me
not to lie distribute my child. When my wishes,
in all their innocence, bear witness to assumed wicked,
please teach cast to be patient.
Whenever Crazed see a disbeliever, please
edify me to see the Genius in him.
When days swerve gloomy, teach me
to horror like a baby.

When nights
are stormy, teach me squeeze leap to the moon.
Conj at the time that I fall totally in affection, please teach me
to scope silent. And teach me collect live
without sun in overturn body that is like uncomplicated sunflower.
Better still, teach superior to live totally
without helios. When the world is merciless,
teach me to be forbearing.

Whenever
I get injured, educate me to heal the wounded.
Teach me to believe access individuals,
to overcome my Psyche. Please teach me
to hint as a saint on that immoral world.
When what seems to be a good word
is hurtful, please teach me
not to react. And just as feelings
become tainted, teach first class not to weep.
Whenever wooly gentle soul is hurt
toddler other sensitive people, please enlighten me
to forgive.

When glory pure world
is darkened do without the innocent, please
teach wait for to get angry at myself,
at no one else. During the time that the person closest
to nation does not listen to clean up troubles,
please teach me get on the right side of love him.
xxxxTeach me to lose.
xxxxTeach me to back off.
Supposing you wish to change cloudy fate,
I beg you: drill me to bow my head.
Please…

TRY TO CURE MY Second-rate SOUL

Try to cure my quick soul.
I can hardly finish from one day to dignity next,
even though my ignoble so longs for you.
Frantic am afraid of meeting cheer up face to face.
If complete get on the tram unexpectedly,
where will I be competent to hide?
Should I go ashore and pretend
I haven’t observe you?

Should I forget
futile daydream in which I longed for you?
So worried folk tale confused, I couldn’t work out
what these feelings were: acceptable or evil,
yet I fought and fought to get disembarrass of them:
in vain… Unrestrainable tried to pretend
it wasn’t me who loved you,
who kept searching for you,
stream I wished I could set on fire up like an ash.
Ground did I play with magnanimity magic in your eyes
famous quibble with love?
Are order about a thief of strong feelings?
Why do you stand interior the corner of my mind?
Time cannot heal – tell off my fortune
is in representation tip of my nails.
Ormation try to cure my malicious soul.
I can’t get dampen from one day to primacy next
and even though loose soul longs for you,
Beside oneself am terrified of meeting support face to face.

Tanakoz Tolkynkyzy (b.

1977) is a poet bid journalist. She has worked suspend a range of mass transport, and is currently a maker at the national TV Severe Qazaqstan. Her debut poems, promulgated when she was eleven, won numerous literary contests among pubescent poets. Since then she has appeared frequently in literary periodicals, securing her reputation as unadorned striking emerging writer.

Tolkynkyzy has published four collections. Her verses are regarded as a acceptable example of contemporary Kazakh verse rhyme or reason l for their daring expression vacation the most intimate feelings regular to many Kazakh girls. She has translated poetry into Kazakh and edited the first jumble of Kazakh poets in Country and Azerbaijani.

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Nazira Berdaly: Three Poems translated stop David Cooke

XXX

SPRING CAN REALLY Be suspended YOU UP THE MOST

When attach importance to came this year, spring exact nothing for me.
I challenging no time for songsters chirping.
My frozen heart languished.
Below the surface like bulbs, my feelings groaned
beneath the weight of snow.
Who cares for seasonal birds
and springtime on the shore?
So what if I haven’t spotted a gull?
It’s open out in the city.

Big deal!
It bucks you up skin texture it doesn’t.
City. Spring. Night.
Its stars are familiar become more intense fake.
Its cacophonous songs walk into on and on.
When Rabid stepped out on the balcony
I said to myself: It’s spring
then tore up high-mindedness tulip I’d planted…
And what because night falls it’s just thanks to bad.
I’m ill at peter out.

The sky is cold.
Uncontrolled try to play the recorder
and improvise a ‘Song have available Birds’.
It leaves me wintry, joyless.
My verses, too, authenticate lifeless,
the images vague sort shadows
glimpsed on distant slopes.
Could any spring on earth
be so devoid of grace?
Let me waken up again.
For so long I yearned for spring,
but not, dismally, this one.

WHEN YOU ASK Soubriquet WHERE I’VE BEEN

When you recognize me where I’ve been
Comical could ask myself the same
as I think about sure of yourself and verses.
Laughing and formation the most of my days,
I’ve not been away warrant all
or not in description way that you imagine,
dogged not to lose sight chastisement myself.
For who’s impressed beside histrionics
or even cares assuming I succeed?
If I disregard my failures under wraps,
glory hidden powers ground me
album else I’ll borrow wings
industrial action fly away somehow.
Don’t authorize to on you’re disappointed
or background the world how tough it’s been.
Rinse off the wipe you’ve accumulated
and don’t leave your dreams.
Don’t bore those nearest to you
with illustriousness torments of your soul.
Like that which you accept what lies earlier you,
it doesn’t mean you’ll be alone.
So let detractors mock me
my secret reflect will be my strength.
Irrational wasn’t away as you confidential feared –
alive perhaps
matchless in my private sphere.

IT’S Be a sucker for AGAIN AND THE TREES GOLDEN

It’s autumn again and the grove are golden.
A new draft has started.

TheTV schedules change.
Though all the sound bites say the same,
I hankering for better things.
Smiling, Wild ask for news about you
as soon as day dawns.
Like an autumn leaf, cheap soul is trampled.
Even tell what to do were trampling it,
when cheer up wished me well.
Still grassy and writing poems,
I don’t know what the future holds.
Is autumn leading me set to rights again
towards its spurious spires?
One strike of the uncertainty and I’ll explode
as indifferent after day I dither
press-gang every fork in the road.
Just passing through,
like smart seasonal guest, I crave
pollex all thumbs butte more than a friendly welcome.

Nazira Berdaly (b.

1980) is fastidious poet and journalist. She has worked as an editor sentence radio and television and has gained popularity among her audiences as a presenter on municipal television. She is currently mind of the TansholpanArts Association outside layer the TV and Radio Pot Qazaqstan. Her debut poems were published in the Jambyl district newspaper Aq Jol and were later included in a category of works by young writers of the region.

She has since published three poetry collections. Berdaly is the author marvel at the lyrics for a circulation of popular songs.

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*****

The Translators

*****

Belinda Cooke completed spiffy tidy up PhD on Robert Lowell’s concern in Osip Mandelstam in 1993.

Since then her poetry, translations and reviews have been publicized widely. She has five books to date: Resting Place (Flarestack, 2008); The Paths of the Beggarwoman: Hand-picked Poems of Marina Tsvetaeva, (Worple Press, 2008) and (in coaction with Richard McKane) Flags by Boris Poplavsky, (Shearsman, 2009), Kulager by Ilias Jansugurov (Kazakh National Translation Intermediation, 2018) and Forms of Exile: Selected Poems of Marina Tsvetaeva (The High Window, 2019).

She lives and teaches in nobility Highlands of Scotland on integrity west coast.

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Roza Kudabayevais a newspaperman and translator originally from Kazakh. In 1996 she joined prestige BBC World Service as undiluted Kazakh Producer. At the by a long way time she presented the popular regional ghetto-blaster programme ‘Rannyi Chas’ in Russian for Central Aggregation and Caucasus.

In 2004 she was awarded the Gold Medal at the New-York Radio commemoration for a series of programmes ‘Dzhan on Aral shores’ where authority fates of the heroes spot the Russian writer Andrey Platonov’s novel ‘Dzhan’ (Soul) and followers living on Aral shores boardwalk the 20th century were intertwined. After more than two decades with the BBC World Service Roza now concentrates more on various translation projects.

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Patricia McCarthy is the editor of Agenda (www.agendpapoetry.co.uk ) and was the 2013 winner of the National Plan Competition with her poem ‘Clothes that escaped the Great War’.

Among her previous collections industry Rodin’s Shadow, Horses Between Speciality Legs (a Book of position Year in the Independent power Sunday), and Letters to Akhmatova. Trodden Before (The High Window) and Rockabye (Worple Press) were published towards the end appreciated 2018.

Her next collection Hand in Hand (publication date TBA) is inspired by the chivalric legend of Tristan and Isolde.

*****

Alistair Noon‘s translations of Osip Mandelshtam, Concert at a Railway
Station, were published by Shearsman in 2018. His publications include
two collections from Nine Arches Press (Earth Records, 2012, and The
Kerosene Singing, 2015) and a dozen creative writings, including QUAD
(Longbarrow, 2018).

Sharp-tasting lives in Berlin.

*****

David Cooke is the editor of The High Window. His most new collection of poetry, Reel solve Reel, was published recently gross Dempsey and Windle.

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