Contemporary Azerbaijani Poetry Mammad Ismayil

Mammad Ismayil
(1939)

Mammad Ismayil (full name Ismayilov Mammad Murshud oghlu) is a well-known Azerbaijani poet. He was born on January 11, 1939, in Tovuz district. In 1957 M. Ismail finished the secondary school, then he graduated from the Azerbaijan State University (1964). Later he was sent by the Azerbaijan Writers" Union to Moscow to study at Literature courses.
He worked as a corrector, correspondent, editor, head of department, editor-in-chief in different nespapers and in the State Television and Radio Committee. In 1980-1983s he worked in the Publishing House Yazichi (Writer), then head of Publishing House Ishig (Light). In 1988-1992s he was editor-in-chief of the magazine Ganjlik (Youth), a year later he was appointed to the position of the Chairman of the Azerbaijan Television and Radio Company. He is currently working in Turkey as a teacher at the Chanaqqala University. He is the author of over 30 books and film-scripts. His poems were translated into Russian, turkish and qazakh languages.



The Past is Water, The Future is Water
Water is in the blood,
The soul in your breast is water.
The grape wine climbed the walls-
is water!
The bluest butterfly flying on the river-
is water!
A drop of tear in the eyes,
A jar in the spring- is water!
Water will die together with you
in your daughter"s tears!
No beginning, no end!
The Past is water! The Future is water!
The welcomed thing that seen
on the face of Prophets-
is water!

I Feel Sorry...
I feel sorry for
the years made me orphan,
for the ashes thrown over my head,
for the tongues told my love "not'
and... later on the soul that repented for that...

I feel sorry for
the people who becomes old-maid,
who enjoyed to use lies and...
who is looking for the happiness
in this miserable world.

I feel sorry for
the decrees of my black Fate,
for my Saz that was taken prisoner by its black dress,
for Nazim  whose fortune I live,
for the decrees of my Fate
that was up to mischief,

I feel sorry for my dreams not liken to my life,
and I feel sorry most of all for myself...
Everything is petty,
everything is strange,
Oh, my God!
Life is not like my dream!..