Why Should I Care Poem by Uktamoy Khaldorova

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Why should I care of this light world,
From the seventh heaven I came.
From my fire the flowers aflame,
Not seen yet like a sweet dream.

Why should I care of this light world,
Low are its mountains, peoples are mean.
Their wooden coffins are hearts, unbroken,
Carry high their dead with pride, it's seen..

From the seventh heaven I descended,
Immortal I am, die I would not.
I would rather die, my beloved,
Than from springs to be so parted.

My eyes see, my heart burns,
My hands are under the stone.
Oh, life, you'd better wish me death,
Than give me a short hand, a sick soul.