Posts in "Poem translation"

UYGHUR POEMS


Edited by Aziz Isa Elkun
Translated by Aziz Isa Elkun and others
Published: 26/10/2023
EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY POCKET POETS
Penguin Random House

An unprecedented collection of poems spanning the rich two-thousand-year cultural legacy of the Uyghur people of Central Asia. EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY POCKET POETS.

The Uyghurs have a long and glorious history of poetry, dating from the oral epics of the second century BCE through the elegant love poetry of the medieval period and up to the present moment -and much of it has never before been translated into English. Uyghur poetry reflects the magnificent natural landscapes at the heart of the Silk Road region, with its endless steppes, soaring mountain ranges, and vast deserts, as well as its turbulent history. Turkic, Sufi, and Persian influences have shaped the poetic tradition over the centuries, and more recently the modernism of the twentieth century left its mark as well. In the face of the systematic persecution of the Uyghurs in China today, which has driven many of their poets into exile, including the editor and translator of this volume, Aziz Isa Elkun, who lives in London. Uyghur Poems is not only a remarkable one-volume tour of an ancient and vibrant poetic tradition but also a vital witness to a threatened culture.

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The tears of the Uyghurs

poet: unknown 
Translated by Aziz Isa Elkun 

Hot like fire, red like blood, 
The city furthest from the sea. 
The tears of the Uyghurs, 
Never stop day and night. 

Hands were fractured, heads were smashed, 
Lives dedicated to suffering. 
My food tastes like poison 
With my last breath I say My country. 

I live far from my homeland, 
Tears wet my pillow. 
Allah created us with mercy, 
Look at what we have become. 

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Blessing

Poet Adil Tunyaz’s photo, in his flat in Urumchi on 27 August 2021. Photo by A. I. Elkun

Adil Tunyaz*
Translated by Aziz Isa Elkun

Dedicated for A.I

Finally we met
First on the phone –
Then as fast as before dusk falls
A red taxi parked next to us
Left no trace of misery,
But a thorn was left in our tongue…

Your blessing belongs in a foreign language
Your two daughters as white as snow
And they have no worries
They flew with English language for a while
With their semi-transparent wings.

They have fallen down
Into the Uyghur language –
That language that God blessed
There is a sky underneath, and its top covered tight
Its meaning forever and the letters can reach.

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