by Aziz Isa Elkun
Poem dedicated to my beloved father who left us on 3rd November 2017 to rest in peace.
Poem read by Erol Özdemir
A bright star stopped shining in the garden of life
Angels read verses to send him to Heaven
Elkun, your only son who failed to carry your coffin
Now I say “my dear father” and write this obituary…
The naked white poplar trees you planted
you were not here when their leaves fell this autumn
when the grapes ripened on the vine
you were not here to eat them.
Sheep call you from their enclosure
your hard working hands are not there to feed them
even the roosters fall silent to mourn you at dawn
now you are not here and your house lacks its pillar.
My sky is covered with heavy dark clouds
the sun I awaited did not rise today
you were the moon who lit my soul
now day has become night without you.
You were that kind of father in our village
you were not there when the desert bloomed through your labour
when your grandchild set out on the sea of knowledge
when she called you “granddad” you were not there.
Dear father you were a gardener with green fingers
when the thorns grow, you are not there to prune them
you were a doctor and an angel to your patients
now my heart is broken but you are not here to cure it.
You have left today in your coffin heading towards your tomb
your son didn’t carry you because he was not beside you
when seven spades full of soil were dropped on you
people said farewell to you and you were no longer here.
My soul is burning fiercely with this loss
let Elkun cry now because he has no father any more
I could not see you alive for the last time …
how sad I was and could find no cure for my grief!
8th November 2017, London.
Read the original version of this poem in Uyghur: