RUSTAM MUSURMON, poet, journalist, contributor for the newspaper “Literature and art of Uzbekistan”, works for Writers Association. Published 2 poetry books, his poems have appeared in numerous anthologies.
H E A R T
Heart – it is my saddle-horse,
Its stake is stuck into my chest.
Neither alfalfa nor fodder,
Its food is mercy, that’s the best.
It always snorts and taps its heels,
Likes to gallop with bloodshot eyes
It only wants to play with me,
To hide itself from others, tries.
If I feed it by myself
It doesn’t eat the sweetest food
Because it’s used to eat from hands
Of the girls that lovely, good.
It wants to jump a solid rope,
Thinks to fly and hits the roof.
I’m already a wounded man
Injured from its heavy hoof.
It will steal, at last, an angel,
And looks never yet more back.
It will also drag me than