Sad Thoughts by Ilman Yusupov
We present you a poem from the well known Chechen poet Ilman Yusupov.
The graveyard expands more and more each and every day
A dozen of graves are added to an old tombstone.
The mattock of death daily weeds amid those lying in clay
Always keeping an eye on the tillage of life, on its own
The jar of my fate will break in flinders some day
Breaking suddenly off the wonderful dream of my life.
Learning the death ABC from inscriptions on tombstone plates, so to say.
I shall have to make up my last will while I am alive.
I often come to the graveyard and stop deep in thought:
The last trace of my life will break on this spot.
My flesh will become tasteless food for this land, and I,
Along with my soul, will become a delicious meal for the sky…