Rauf Parfi (1943-2005)

Beautiful as a fresh dawn
As a bud opened in the morning
Clean like a drop of dew in the bud.
There is a word like
A sweet child of honeyed feelings
As if joy of eyes like the endless sky.
There is a word
Higher than the word TRUTH,
Above the truth itself
There is a word!
Heart is shrinking in the empty home,
Black uncertainty prevailed at last.
I am a vagrant man, myself far from,
In my eyes fatigued mists sank fast.
But you do not come to listen to
My ardent words are audible no more:
Making farewells pass over you:
Still – myself – oh, I am looking for.