Back then I went in solitude
To places dear, them trails known,
Where I can maybe find a resolve
For many questions that have been gnawing
At soul’s strings. There, by the stream
I’ve seen the canyon’s depth again
Inviting for a not-easy hike
The older me, as if in spite
Of years lived uphills and losses,
Of bravery and sour regrets.
Where do I go in the end?
Whose hand will hold my solemn corpses?
All those, who are smart and looking forth,
Do notice the departing hoard:
Like mighty buffaloes in a fog
They trot beside your youthful scope
And ask submittingly the skies —
Their blinking stars, the eternal plight
To answer, soothe, to fool at least,
Deter from ever-gnawing quest:
“Just leave me be, I'm writing the book.
My life is good, no need for gold.
Do take my riches, in return —
Few more years to live and learn…”
Back Then I Went in Solitude
© Copyright: Гульнара Элрод Умарбекова, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №220120800118
Свидетельство о публикации №220120800118
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