Shadows die at dusk
By Esengali Raushanov
Shadows die at dusk,
Because they should die anyway.
A riverside darkens, it becomes pitch black,
As if it swallowed thick blood.
The steppe is darkened too, as if soaked in blood.
Deaf universe,
Let me listen to you too.
Like a widow in a black shawl,
A lonely birch tree gave its shadow to the earth.
Sorry, my brother,
I’m not the one to blame,
A silent green sprout sobs shaking its head.
I buried them and came back today,
But nobody expressed any condolences to me.
The auli
Why does the Sun stand still all in flames?
My grandmother is in my thoughts,
A war swallowed her husband,
a son and two brothers at once.
The Moon rises with the swollen face,
A road runs into the dense thicket.
…Tonight I won’t be able
to sleep again,
Dead souls coming into my dreams.
Esengali Raushanov (1957–2021) was a Kazakh poet and writer born in Karakalpakstan (Uzbekistan). He was the Laureate of the State Prize of the Republic of Kazakhstan (2006).