Native Language By Rasul Gamzatov Poem by Yuri Starostin

Native Language By Rasul Gamzatov

Native language
Always all in a dream is a ridiculous is and strange.
An asleep was me today my death.
There is in the afternoon heat in the valley of Dagestan
With a lead in the breast I was lying motionless.

A rings river runs un-hartable.
Forgotten and I did not need to anyone
I was flattened on a dear earth
Before being myself a ground.

I am dying, but no one does not know
About it and will not come to me,
Only an eagles are screeching somewhere in a heaven
And a fallow deers moans somewhere aside.

And to weep over my grave
That I died in the prime years,
No mother, no a friend, no a darling,
What is really there - and a mourners no.

So I was laying, dying in a powerless
And suddenly heard is not afar
Two men walked and talked,
To me is own, on avar language.

There is in the afternoon heat in the valley of Dagestan
I was dying, and a people led a speech
About a tricks of some Hasan,
About an antics of some Ali.

And, vaguely hearing the sound of the native speech
I came to life, and the moment has come
When I understand that would cure me
Not a doctor, not a medicine man, but the native language.

Someone heals from a diseases
An another language, but to me on it it is not sing,
And if tomorrow my language disappears,
I am ready to die today.

I always feel sick to him,
Let say that my language is a poor,
Let no sounds from the rostrum of the Assembly,
But, native for me, for me, it's great.

And to understand Mahmoud, my heir
Do read the translation?
Shall I am, the writer of a last,
Who by an avar writes and sings?

I love a life, I love the whole planet,
In it everyone, even a small area,
And most of all the Country of a Councils,
About it I sang by an avar as I could.

I loved the edge of blooming and free,
From the Baltic to the Sakhalin - all.
I'd be lost anywhere,
But let me will bury in the earth here!

To have a grave plate near the village
An avars are remembered sometimes
By an avar word a countryman Rasul -
A successor of Gamzat from Tsad.

Translation from the Avar N.Grebnev

Evening lyrics.
Moscow: Iskusstvo,1965.

Sunday, December 8, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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