Mukhammadiyeva Sevinch
Mukhammadiyeva Sevinch
Translated Alexander Faynberg’s poem
A full moon glows, a torch in the skies,
Mosque domes ascending where stars arise.
The linden spreads its honeyed perfume,
While quail songs echo in the quiet gloom.
Beneath the sturdy plane tree’s shade,
An empty teahouse serenely laid.
The old tea-maker lies in rest,
Near the samovar, in peace, he’s blessed.
By the well, casting shadows low,
The willow’s branches gently bow.
Through its leaves, the moonlight gleams,
Flowing like a stream into its dreams.
Far off beyond a narrow gate,
A haunting melody whispers late.
The linden shares its sweetened scent,
While quails lament in their constant vent.
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