Lolita Poem by Enver Hamit

The hearts that broken because of love
The devotion that no one understands
The real result of love as death
The frozen breathes
The meaninglessness that accepted as tradition
The dishonorableness that carried out by people
The loneliness of melancholy
The incurableness of incurability
Do you want me to make toys out of all these?

Do you want me to prepare a game out of
the only real taste in this world which is regret
the woman that's not loved but needed
the life that's lived as a hobby
the books that were bought to insult the wisdom?
Or do you want me to make a film out of all foolishness?
Or do you want me to make food and drink out of my tears and blood?
Tell me, Lolita!

April25,2015\ Urumqi