Skip to content

Scottish Poetry Library

Register/Sign in
Shopping Bag Shopping Bag
Bringing people and poems together
  • Home
  • Poetry
    • Poets
    • Poems
    • Makar – National Poet
      • Our Waking Breath: A Poem-letter from Scotland to Ukraine
      • A Woman’s A Woman
      • The story of the Makar – National Poet of Scotland
    • Best Scottish Poems
    • Spiorad an Àite
      Spirit of Place
    • The Trysting Thorns
    • Poetry Ambassadors
      Tosgairean na Bàrdachd
      • Poetry Commissions: Walter Scott 250
        Coimiseanan Bàrdachd: Walter Scott 250
      • Poetry Ambassadors 2021
    • Poetry Ambassadors 2020
    • Posters
    • Podcasts
  • Library
    • Become a borrower
    • Catalogue
    • Collections
    • Ask a librarian
    • Copyright enquiries
  • Learning
    • SQA set texts
    • Learning resources
    • Designing sensory poetry activities
    • Children’s poems in Scots
    • National Poetry Day archive
    • New to poetry?
    • Advice for poets
  • Events
    • What’s On
    • Meeting rooms and venue hire
    • Exhibitions
  • Shop
    • Poetry Highlights
    • Entropie Books
    • Stichill Marigold Press
    • Poems for Doctors, Nurses & Teachers
    • Scottish Poetry
    • Poetry Pamphlet Cards
    • Help
  • About us
    • Our story
    • Our people
    • Jobs
    • Company Papers & Policies
    • Our projects
    • Our building
    • FAQs
    • Find us
  • Support us
    • Become a Friend
    • Donate
  • Blog
Shopping BagShopping Bag
Ask a librarian
  • Home
  • >
  • Poetry
  • >
  • Roza Mukasheva
  • >
  • from Nomad in the sunset
Donate Donate icon Ask a Librarian Ask a Librarian icon

from Nomad in the sunset

Roza Mukasheva

This time he fell in the abyss on his horse, and the Sun fell with him
And his voice never reached us again,
Only a stone inscription remained.
Where was the army headed in a whirlwind,
The raging Saks and Hunnus.

From far ends of Asia they flew over to this end
Horsemen of the boundless Universe.
The whirlpool of stars within their reach,
Offspring of steppe winds and mountain winds.

Everything in this world is fleeting, all things pass
– the land was divided, the flocks and soul ripped away from me
In the emptiness of the steppe, luring far off fires burned,
As I rode impetuously at lightning speed, the reigns of destiny no longer in my hand,
Suddenly not realising: have I been pierced by light or the searing heat of the sword?

What far reaches… where would my tribe go now?
Where would it go, where to aim in darkness?
My small clan, that split off from the big tribe
Flung up in a moment like a spark off a horseshoe

The Sun falls into the wound of my heart
Maybe I didn’t know that this world’s colour is the colour of blood, like the sunset.
Now I release my soul to be
And my steed, closer than my soul,
I release him too. Be free.


Roza Mukasheva

translated by Hamid, Rano and Daniyar Ismailov

with grateful thanks to the team at Poetry Parnassus.

Reproduced by kind permission of the team at Poetry Parnassus.

Tags:

adventure danger freedom Kyrgyzstan riding transience

About this poem

This poem, representing Kyrgyzstan, is part of The Written World – our collaboration with BBC radio to broadcast a poem from every single nation competing in London 2012.

Share this
Facebook
Twitter
Email

Learn more

Roza Mukasheva

More about Roza Mukasheva

Events

Discover our poetry events at the library & online.
Find forthcoming Events

Join

Become a Borrower or support our work by becoming a Friend of SPL.
Join us
  • Newsletter signup
  • Accessibility
  • Terms & Conditions
  • Privacy Policy
Scottish Poetry Library
5 Crichton's Close, Canongate
Edinburgh EH8 8DT
Tel: +44 (0)131 557 2876
© Scottish Poetry Library 2022.
The Scottish Poetry Library is a registered charity (No. SCO23311).
City of Edinburgh logo Green Arts Initiative logo Creative Scotland logo
Scottish Poetry Library