Since I usually transliterate and translate texts of classical Tatar prose, I decided to contrast that by introducing you to the works of contemporary Tatar poets.
RAWİL FƏYZULLİN – BİYEKLEK
Taw östendə naratlar
cillərdə çayqalalar.
Oçları belən küklərgə
nider yazmaq bulalar?
Börketlər uzışıp yawlıy
kükneñ yaña qatların.
Yənəse, kiñ ofıq kürsen
xakimlek qanatların!
Tönge küktən küp yoldızlar
atıla yana-yana.
Biyektənrək töşkəne
küzlərgə señep qala.
Keşe də ürləməkçe gel...
Ə ruxınıñ - üz küge.
Qılğan igelege belən
ülçənə biyeklege.
RAWİL FƏYZULLİN – HEIGHT
Pines on the mountain
sway in the winds.
With their tips, they seem to try
to write something in the skies?
Eagles, racing, conquer
new layers of the sky.
As if for the wide horizon
to see their ruling wings!
Many stars from the night sky
fall, burning as they go.
The ones that fall from greater heights
stay imprinted in our eyes.
People, too, always strive to climb...
But their spirit has its own sky.
Its height is measured
by the good deeds they do.
***
İLSÖYƏR İQSANOVA – SAĞINU
Kiç. Salmaq qar oça.
Cirdə zəp-zəñgər eñger.
Ay yulı töşkən — altın yul.
Sağışlı ikən kemder.
Kiç. Ənkəy cep erli.
Ə miçtə yana uçaq...
Min yaratqan zəñgər eñger
Dönyanı sara şulçaq.
İLSÖYƏR İQSANOVA – LONGING
Evening. The snow is falling gently.
The earth is deep blue with twilight.
The moon’s path has fallen — a golden path.
Someone is filled with sorrow.
Evening. Mother is spinning thread,
And a fire is burning in the stove…
The blue twilight I love, meanwhile,
Is enveloping the world.