Why Was I Born a Poet?
by Almas Ildirim (1907-1952)

What else can I write about my country?
Enemies spread poison and friends hide.
I don't know why the poet who loves his country
Is spied upon as a criminal?

I didn't bar anybody's way and I wasn't a robber.
I didn't disturb anybody's quiet life.
I wasn't a bloody flower for my country,
I didn't impose any death sentence on anybody
Why am I a stranger in this foreign country,
It's as if I'm surrounded by a prison and I'm suffocating.
Why was I born to be a poet,
In a cursed time and condemned land?

Translated by Aytan Aliyeva

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