Poems
Sherzod Artikov ( Uzbekistan)
পুষ্পপ্রভাত পত্রিকা
প্রকাশিত : ১০:০৪ এএম, ৭ জুলাই ২০২৪ রোববার
Sherzod Artikov is a writer, essayist and translator. He graduated from Ferghana Polytechnic Institute in 2005. He was one of the winners of the International Award of Contemporary Author’s Fairy Tales held in North Macedonia in 2021. His stories have been translated into 28 languages of the world and published in websites, magazines and newspapers of about 60 countries.
In 2020, the author’s books “Autumn Symphony”, “Beauty that did not save the world” and “Mona Lisa’s Smile” were published in 2022. In the middle of 2021-2022, his stories and poems were published in international anthologies in Bangladesh, Egypt, India, Canada, Tunisia, Greece, Mexico, Indonesia, USA, UAE, France, Lebanon, Poland, Turkey, and his author’s books were published in Cuba in 2021 “La Sinfonia del “Otono” in Spanish, in 2022 in India under the name of “The Book of Garcia Marquez” and in Romania under the name of “Sonata lui Rachmaninov” in Romanian.
In 2021-2022, he participated in international literature festivals held in Argentina, Tunisia, Singapore, Chile, Romania, Nepal, Nicaragua, Portugal and Indonesia.
He is a 2021 laureate of the “Golden creativity award” of the Mexican-Moroccan literary alliance for young translators and a member of the International Federation of Writers “FIEL” in Argentina and the World Union of Writers and Artists “UEMA” in Portugal.
Sky’s Tears
Ruined and broken
Land of Palestine
Day and night
Under the bombs.
Blood flows like a river
Poisoned life of people
Dying children, old men
Dying fathers, mothers and sons.
Families are being destroyed
Houses, walls are being crumled
Nature is being terrified.
But, the world is silent
The Mankind is silent
The God is silent.
Maybe cries only the sky
Because of the cruelty of humanity
Carrying a complaint against them
Or being angry at their silence.
Maybe cries only the sky
Who caught in deep shock
Whispering in the company of Earth
Turning whose tears into the rain.
Maybe cries only the sky
For being not able to understand
In spite of the endless thoughts:
Why so bloodily killing each other
Brothers who in one land were born.
А Letter to Marquez
Teacher,
I pray for your homeland!
Now there reigns
Chaos, turmoil, bloodshed.
A threat to peace grows
Human rights are being destroyed
Justice disappeared.
Your Macondo weeps
Where you’re safe and comfortable
Lived in past with a brunette Mercedes.
Where you wrote the fabulous Buendia family
And described the formidable Patriarch.
Your Makondo weeps
Where you breathed the fresh air
Opening the window in the early morning
Waiting for the sun on the windowsill
With a cup of coffee in your hand.
You Macondo weeps Master
Where you sang a serenade
Cheerfully with a smile on your lips.
Danced the tango, played tirelessly
With a glass of bitter tequila
Wearing a big branded hat.
Cortazar’s Tomb
The great one`s ashes rest here
In the cemetery of vain Paris.
Among strangers a lonely tomb
As if staring into the horizon sadly.
From here impossible it is
To see kindly land of Argentine
The homeland where he was born
The homeland where was spent
His childhood and adolescence.
No, you can not see it,
Can not see it at all, painful tomb
It`s as obvious as
Two and two is equal to four.
But, a stubborn grave
Does not want to admit it
And it`s capricious claiming
To the gray clouds
To a half-naked trees
That beyond the horizon shines
The radiant smile of the motherland.