Ravil Bukharayev
from Quest: Misty Sonnets
0
The echo of my word’s lost in mist.
I listen to the silence from the pier.
I’m of the West as well as of the East
My home, as yet, is nowhere near.The mist I see; a silent call I hear.
But am I myself lost? Not in the least.
Alert and cautious as a watchful beast
I feel only pain and the void, doubt and fear.Of what I feel, I could prepare a list.
But for the silence, which invades my ear,
The rest of me is plain and clear,
The rest of me just fits into my fist.This life is strange like my name Ravil,
For what I feel is not what I reveal.
Translated by Richard McKane
Page(s) 68
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