Spring 1999 (7.1)
Page 56

Quest for Freedom
(1960-1991)

Vagif Samadoghlu
(1939- )

For more poetry by Vagif and memories about his father Vurgun

Right: Vagif Samadoghlu in 1997, photo by Betty Blair


Freedom
(1969)

You are my
Own mother, Freedom,
I am your
Own child who has been reared by strangers...
You are the white flag that
My last hope has raised, Freedom,
I am the wind
Unfurling you...


Silence
(1982)

Paths are long,
Paths are short-
Does it make any difference
In what country,
Or on what path you lose your way?
Thousands of countries,
thousands of languages-
Does it make any difference
In what country,
Or in what language
You keep your silence?

How should I run?
Why should I run?
Where should I run?
The world is small, as small as a prison yard...

-Vagif Samadoglu (1970)

The Poet's Cry
(1982)

How do the birds sing
In the Garden of Eden?
Do they sing loudly
or in hushed, quiet tones?
How do the poets cry
In Hell?
Do they scream
Or weep like us?


The Mist
(1982)

Mist has come over Baku-
Don't tell anyone.
It seems a lot of it has come-
Don't tell anyone.
One lamp was lit tonight,
It was lit and went out tonight-
Don't tell anyone.
I lost my way in this mist
As I went out my door,
I've written poems again-
Don't tell anyone.
What will the mist do to me
Among the stone houses?
My love, I am still alive-
Don't tell anyone...

Does it make any difference in what country,
Or on what path you lose your way?
Thousands of countries, thousands of languages -
Does it make any difference in what country,
Or in what language
You keep your silence?

-Vagif Samadoglu (1982)

Suffocation
(1982)

How suffocatingly stuffy...
And the book I'm reading,
And the woman I'm longing for
Are in this stuffiness.
I seat the killer in the book
In the coolest place,
And send the woman I'm thinking about
To the seacoast.
And there again we remain
Sitting shoulder to shoulder
In this wearisome, stuffy heat.
Me and freedom...


Bridge
(1982)

If I had known that
Someone would pass over me,
I would have made a bridge of myself
Between here
And the world...


Entangled
(1982)

I am caught
In the spider's web of poetry.
I can't set myself free
And live...
But, perhaps, I would rather write poems
Than live...


Created for Woman
(1982)

What hasn't man created
For woman?
Nations.
Languages.
Tribes.
Countries.
He set boundaries,
And made war stand sentinel over her.
What we have gained in this war
Waged for a woman
Is only poetry and music...


Living Witness
(1982)

Oh, my God!
They're killing a man
in the forest,
in the presence of so many trees!

What God Believes
(1983)

It is not us
But God who doesn't believe us...
He doesn't believe us
When we shed blood,
When one man throws a stone at another.

But when the sky
Looks like a child's smiling face,
And when man says, "The world is beautiful,"
Facing the sea,
It is not us,
But God who believes us.

Translated by Aynur Hajiyeva

From Azerbaijan International (7.1) Spring 1999.
© Azerbaijan International 1999. All rights reserved.

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