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Dead steam of humanityBy
Adnan Lermontov
Dedicated
to Dr. Humayun Azad. 1 Never hate him; he is not responsible for anything. He is nobody: powerless, and extremely frugal. He is the man, who fights for the humanity, alone, in this insidiously lonely world. He doesn’t cry; he doesn’t smile; he doesn’t beg for forgiveness. He understands more than the God, or gods. He is much, much wiser than the ancient time itself. He is not a human being, not a human being at all. Believe me, he is not a man either, perhaps, most probably, he is from another universe. He is “something” extraordinary; it is hard to “define” that “something”. He sees things differently, rightly. He can see the darkness laughing furiously, on the horizon. He is known as the mad man. He is known as the unnecessary, the unwanted. But you must remember, that he never forgets anything. He will remember your face forever. He will look you in the eye, and say nothing. But you will know that he knows, whatever there is to know, about you. You don’t need to tell him who you are. He knows who you are, always did. You don’t need to show him what you could do to others. He knows about your ferocity. Dear friend, he has no modern weapons to fight you, except the ancient pen, and a heart to accept all the pain. He is beyond time. He is continues, never ending. He was here, among us, forever, and he will be here forever, among us. Don’t ever try to delete him from history. There will be others, fiercer, more humane, more just. Never try to scare him. How would you scare a dead man? Think about it! Remember: he is a poet; he is nobody. He has nothing to fear. He has nothing to give up. 2 Poetry is always there. It is the poet who finds it. Beauty is never there. It is the poet who creates it. Poetry and the beauty may seem to be the same thing. But, still, poetry would survive without beauty. Without poetry, beauty would never find its way to the universe. Without a poet, poetry would be lost forever, And there will be no beauty in the cosmos - nothing would exist. How would the world survive without poetry? How would the world survive without beauty? How would the world survive without a poet? 3 It is the same song allover again. It is the song about a nine-year-old prostitute. It is the song about a dying mother in poverty. It is the song about a sick father in the battlefield. It is the same song allover again. It is the song about a rapist. It is the song about a murderer. It is the song about a savage God. It is the same song allover again. Go, my friend, go away, and leave forever. There is nothing else can be done - be happy, knowing that you have won. So, please don’t waste your time. Go on, become a perfect savage. There is nothing more to learn. There is nothing more to see. There is nothing more to understand. Let the poet live, as he wants. Let the poet see, as he wish. Let the poet suffer, as he desires. 4 How easy is it to be a savage? 5 I want to understand you, as I understand my desires. I do not want to know. What’s the point? I want to understand, for there is a clear and distinct difference, between knowing and understanding. Knowing is not enough. Even understanding enough is not enough. I want something more than that, something beyond understanding, where very few men ever walked. Where the experience of being lost in eternity, is not a depressed, or lonely one; but a brave and charming one. I want to understand you, at such a sharp and ferocious point, where I can feel your existence, not only through my existence, but also through the rhythm of my soul, I want to understand you, beyond the foggy circle of my imagination. And, with you, I too dream to cry for humanity. |
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