Ancient Verse

I was your poet, with an angel's smile, whose wrath foretold the end,

When prayers of suns and moons of ten worlds in words I did amend.

When the worlds they call ‘seven earthly dreams’ revealed my inner light,

I was reborn under the sun's great roar, bending the bolts of might.

In times long past, with echoes dark from cliffs that never speak,

In the form of man, I sought each year the silence I did seek.

The universe's glow, entrapped in prayer, burned through my ceaseless gaze,

The death-killing cry of Korkut's kobyz, and Asan's mournful praise.

When my shadow turned ethereal, woven from starlight's delicate thread,

O holy verse, you came to me with Eden’s dawn outspread.

Before the circles on the lake, the young moon felt dismay,

Upon the shore, a poet lost, whose dreams grew old each day.

I joined the lifeline in my palm with furrows in the wheat,

Forgot the pride that Nature gave, and what’s left now for me to greet?

For long the echo chased me down, each time it struck anew,

Circling shamans, bat-like, cast spells in winds that blew.

When my obedient feet did touch the virgin soil below,

My sinless soul’s pure shadow stayed, where only winds may go.

In ancient times, within my flesh, the clay of life was set,

Yet let that be the pain alone that saddens your heart, poet!