Choman Hardi Poems

Soon they will come. First we will hear
the sound of their boots approaching at dawn
...

Neither do the white bodies of the universe
say good morning to her
nor do the handmade stars
...

On a simple sheet of paper,
the moon sent these simple lines
to the sun's house:
...

It sparks lightning
and broadcasts thunder.
It cancels drought
...

Unlike her friends,
she can't boast a waist any more.
Her hips don't swing and sway.
...

‘It is your last check-in point in this country!'
We grabbed a drink -
soon everything would taste different.
...

I will inherit my mother's kitchen,
her glasses, some tall and lean others short and fat
her plates, an ugly collection from various sets,
...

Years and years of silent labour
the Penelopes of my homeland
wove their own and their children's shrouds
...

You do not die! Not when you want to.
Not when you see your strong husband, the big
brother in his own family, kicked bloody by a group
...

I was asleep in the middle of a pad
when he started writing on the first page.
The tip of his pen pressed down
...