Abai Kunanbaev (Kazakh)
Deniz Akkus
poetry. Having lived in nineteenth century, he is one of the greatest
Kazakh poets. Due to his aristocratic background and nationalist
tendencies in some of his poems, he was out of official favor at times
and it is believed that some of his poetry dealing with Russians has
been 'sanitized' or destroyed. Still, he stands as one of the
greatest Kazakh poets (the greatest some argue). Having had a chance
to listen to his poetry in the original, I must admit that the
translations below do not do him justice.
I don't have the title page of the book: printed in the USSR, 1970.
Translated from the Russian translation of his Kazakh poetry.
----
O my luckless Kazakh, my unfortunate kin,
An unkempt moustache hides your mouth and chin.
Blood on your right cheek, fat on your left--
When will the dawn of your reason begin?
Your looks are not bad and your numbers are vast,
Yet why do you change your favours so fast?
You will never listen to sound advice,
Your tongue in its rashness is unsurpassed.
Unable to manage your property,
Day and night, care and worry are all you see,
Now haughty, now wearing a look of offence,
Constant in nought but inconstancy.
All sorts of scurvy, and petty scum
Have crippled your soul for years to come.
No hope of improvement have you until
Master of your own fate you become.
Kinsmen for trifles each other hate.
God bereft them of reason -- such is their fate.
No honour, no harmony only dissent;
No wonder cattle is scarcer of late.
Over money and power hostilities rage.
You look on while your lords in wrangles engage.
If you fail to cast off those honourless knaves
Fear and shame will your lot be through age after age.
How can your heart be at ease I ask,
If you can't even face the easiest task?
If you cannot muster firmness and pluck,
My folk, you will always be out of luck.
Yet if anyone tells you the right thing to do
You abuse and revile him, so stupid are you.
1886
----
Of her long, thick braids she may well be proud.
Hung with silver coins, from her beaver hat
They sway as she walks, soft and raven-browed.
Have your eyes ever seen a beauty like that?
Clear, transparent as mirrors, her soft, dark eyes
Caress your glance and your soul excite.
Have you ever met such a skin as hers,
Or such pearly teeth or a face so white?
You will seldom see such a slender waist,
Such dainty hands and such tiny feet.
She is always standing before my eyes,
Like a red apple, mellow and sweet.
If you ever happen to touch her hand
Your heart starts beating beyond control.
If your face approaches her lovely fadce
Her nearness sends a thrill through your soul.
1889