Suleyman Rustam

Suleyman Rustam Poems

Suleyman Rustam Biography

Suleyman Rustam (Azerbaijani: Süleyman Rüstəm; November 27, 1906 – June 10, 1989), is poet of the Soviet Azerbaijan, playwright and a public figure. He is the poet of the Azerbaijan SSR (1960), laureate of the Stalin State Prize of the second degree (1950), Hero of Socialist Labour (1976) and a member of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union from 1940. Suleyman Rustam was born on November 27, 1906 in Novxanı village in family of a blacksmith. He studied at Russo-Tatar school until revolution. Suleyman Rustam wrote that, Suleyman Sani Akhundov, who was the headmaster and pedagogue at the school evoked his interest to literature and such famous pedagogues as M.Vezirov, R.Tahirov and A.Israfilbeyli strengthened this interest. After he entered Baku Electric Technical School and then to the eastern faculty of Baku State University where his classmates were Jafar Jabbarly, A.Badalbeyli, V.Khuluflu and was taught by such pedagogue as the eminent writer Abdurrahim bey Hagverdiyev. In 1929, Suleyman Rustam continued his education at the faculty of literature and arts of Moscow State University. From 1937, he worked as a chairman of Azerbaijan State Academic Drama Theatre named after M.Azizbekov. He was the deputy of all convocations of the Soviet Parliament of Azerbaijan and from 1971 till 1989 he was the chairman of Supreme Soviet of the Azerbaijan SSR. Suleyman Rustam was not only the poet, he also was a translator and a literary man. He translated works of I.A.Krylov, A.S.Griboyedov, A.S.Pushkin, M.Y.Lermontov, N.A.Nekrasov and others into his native language. Suleyman Rustam’s works were translated into many languages of the world and also into Russian. Rustam worked as a chief editor of “Edebiyyat qazeti” (“Literature newspaper”). He was the laureate of many prestigious premiums of Azerbaijan and the USSR. Suleyman Rustam died on June 10, 1989 and was buried in the Alley of Honor in Baku.)

The Best Poem Of Suleyman Rustam

My Tabriz

I never get tired of looking at your beauty,
My Tabriz 1, my Tabriz, my gorgeous Tabriz!

I won't let you embrace strangers,
Let me fling my arms round your neck!
Your brother speaking your language, having your blood,
Your close friend sharing your distress
Has come to your festivity, to your celebration.

You met me with salt and bread,2
You met me with flowers from your garden,
You met me with your honest heart,
My Tabriz, my Tabriz, oh, my Tabriz,
Let the mists lift away from above your head, my Tabriz!
Those who have undergone isolation can value you,
Those who have shed tears while parting cherish you,
Those who have lived dark lives can value you,
I picked flowers from your garden, my Tabriz,
My sorrow revived again, my Tabriz!

How beautiful the willows are along the roads,
And boys of courage under the shadow of the willows
Are listening to the advice of their grandfathers,
And their blood boils up, my Tabriz,
These courageous boys are wonderful, my Tabriz!
I'll cry if you're crying, I'll laugh if you're laughing,
I'll live if you're living, I'll die if you are no more,
I'll share all I have with you,
Let me kiss you once more, my Tabriz!
Let me scatter flowers around you, my Tabriz!

What do those deep, meaningful looks mean?
What do the rains coming out of your eyes mean?
What do those autumns and winters in your soul mean?
Don't be downcast like an orphan, my Tabriz!
Don't be so mournful, my Tabriz!

I beg your flowers!
I beg your tongue to call me 'Brother'!
I beg your land and your ground!
I never get tired of looking at your beauty,
My Tabriz, my Tabriz, my gorgeous Tabriz!

Translated by Aynur Hajiyeva

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