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Uktamoy Khaldorova

Iinto My Heart

Into my heart a river is flowing
Its roars are not heard, urging
Like a overfilled bowl it's flooding,
There starts soul's hurting.

At its banks the flood is beating,
Its dirt and stones are floating.
In the water swans are swimming.
Their secrets the waves are sharing

One day I'll not be able to rein it,
One by one my patience breaks
Destructing its river-bed once,
This river floods out of my eyes.

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My Healer Baby

MY HEALER BABY

Dating is a white butterfly,
Its separations are black,
My soul is a sad child
Grew in charity with lack.
My graceful poor baby,
Who dream is wounded, baby.
Looking at stony roads,
My hopes grew into roads.
I burnt, my ashes grew,
Into a flower of luckless dreams.
A companion to the dream, my baby,
Whose joy is wounded, my baby.
Love is water in the stream,
Has run beside you flowing.
Seeing your weak state also
Hasn't gone a moment of waving
From pains suffers, my healer baby,
Whose faith seems victorious, my baby.

poem by Uktamoy KhaldorovaReport problemRelated quotes
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