by Ramiz Rovshan (born 1946)
The small baby snake is growing,
Crawling here and there.
Enjoying the air that it breathes,
The water, the sand, and the stone.
And the pleasure of this joy is filling its soul,
Taking away its sleep at nights.
The scent of flowers,
The scent of grass
The breath of wind
Fills its body.
Everything turns to poison
Within its body.
One day this baby snake
Will be aware of the poison hidden within.
Maybe it will damn its fate,
Or will choke with sorrow.
Don't cry, don't cry, baby snake,
Don't damn your fate, baby snake!
You should bear it,
It's your life, this was your destiny;
A loving heart In your chestu
A poison sack under your fangs.
Whoever sees you, screams:
They keep banishing you,
They block your way
On every side.
You have only one way in this world,
The way from your head to your tail,
From your poisonous tooth to your tail.
There's only one way left:
You are your own way, baby snake.
You are the only one dear to yourself
In this world,
You are your own child, baby snake.
Where will you run,
To be out of sight?
What will you do
With this ruthless world?
You will shed your skin a dozen times,
You won't be able to be separated from yourself
Get used to yourself,
Get used to all aspects of life.
Reconcile yourself to your poison and sorrow inside,
Don't be squeamish about yourself, baby snake.
Maybe in life, baby snake,
You're the most bitter truth.
You're the way of truth,
Maybe God chose this life for you.
Or maybe life, which has hundreds of faces,
Purifies itself through you.
Translated by Aynura Huseinova
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