I have lost a dear and courageous friend, Karim Bahriyev.
There are not many truly powerful Uzbek poetic voices I have known personally, but Karim was unquestionably one of them. I believe our society will only fully understand, perhaps later, whom we have lost.
Like many of us, Karim Bahriyev once carried a deep hope for a free and democratic Uzbekistan – a hope that, over time, grew quieter, heavier… and more uncertain. Yet even then, he never stopped speaking the truth in his own way.
Although he could not always take part in my various projects, his quiet, unwavering spiritual support was always there. That meant a great deal to me.
A long time ago, I translated a small selection of his poems into English. I would like to share one of them here, in his memory.
My deepest condolences to his family, and to all those who stand for freedom and free speech, no matter the cost.
TO THE UZBEK PEOPLE
By Karim Bahriyev
The ice has melted – yet you do not wake,
Spring passed you by in slumber deep.
The summer burned your body, bare and aching,
Still you did not stir. Now autumn calls – arise from sleep.
A racehorse flickers through the clouded sky,
A serpent crawls in silence underground.
The cavern trembles, senses terrified,
A pack of wolves awakens all around.
For crumbs of bread, for just a sip of water,
You bow in thanks, submissive, meek –
Yet even slaves are sometimes treated better.
Reflect on this. Be strong. Be not so weak.
For whom did you cast your silent vote?
Who speaks for you, yet speaks untrue?
If you remain asleep, night will never go –
But dawn will break the moment you renew.
Tell me – what must I do to see you rise?
Shall I weep or laugh, or cry aloud?
I would give all I have without disguise –
But wake… and then I leave this stage, unbowed.
