Listen, Khavar (His Wife)
by Samad Vurghun (1906-1956 )
Father of writers Yusif and Vagif Samadoglu
If death should take his place at the head of my bed,
Like an executioner, scythe in right hand,
You, my beloved one, do not grieve-instead
Don't look upon with horror, boldly stand.
If your red cheeks from grieving should grow pale,
Conceal that tragedy deep within your soul.
Let speech upon your bud-like lips not fail.
Preserve your morale, your love and dignity whole.
And then my soul will rejoice, contentment find.
My grave will open its flowers beneath your light.
If people ask what remains of me in your mind--
Then with your love, like a statue, stand full height!