MELODY OF THE STONE
1. Prime melody
The urn-shaped sand dunes gloomed brown under the desert sun
Over a small stream refreshing with its swirling water their feet
On the small stream’s bed, under water, we, kids, saw a few Yembuu-shaped* stones
Lying in the fine, soft sand as if grown there by good luck to be with the stream
Perhaps, because stones were a rare thing in the pristine great sands
On that day we got keen to play with those stones from the small stream
And took them home to make horses and animals of them and play with
Against the days end the leather loop of my father’s whip roared like thunder over us
“Did you rob the stream its stones?”
“Beg God, the Sky, for mercy for your wrongdoing!”
“Down with your ears to the Earth and listen to the stream!”
“Wheedle and call for its sounds and melody to come back.”
Indeed, the lively stream had subsided
Its sounds were fled to the vast remoteness
My head tuck in between my knees
I fitfully understood the ins and outs of this world and regretted
On a burning hot day we moved our stone horses and animals
To place them back into the stream
When I corrected my wrongdoing in this way
Indeed, the melody of the stream came back giggling and burbling
2. Second melody
Because of my childhood’s belief that stones sang
And, the desire to experience their magic song
In the hope to catch the melody that was to come from very far and very old times
Once I walked one whole day along the old river’s stony bed
When the steel punch tapped the stones’ tunes were waking up
Each stone was singing and jingling in its own way
When you get to hear the melody of a long-gone stream
You get to think of many things and understand the Mother Earth
Though, long time had passed since stones in the stream ceased to sing their songs
I saw they hadn’t forgotten their songs which are eternal, my Motherland
When your trimmed stones sing their songs again
One’s heart gets touched willy-nilly, my Motherland
To be born inseparably from your songs and music
In the bends of flow of infinite years
I am proud even of your stones that are musical instruments
And I love you more and more, my Motherland
* Yembuu: A v-shaped ingot of silver used as money in old times
The urn-shaped sand dunes gloomed brown under the desert sun
Over a small stream refreshing with its swirling water their feet
On the small stream’s bed, under water, we, kids, saw a few Yembuu-shaped* stones
Lying in the fine, soft sand as if grown there by good luck to be with the stream
Perhaps, because stones were a rare thing in the pristine great sands
On that day we got keen to play with those stones from the small stream
And took them home to make horses and animals of them and play with
Against the days end the leather loop of my father’s whip roared like thunder over us
“Did you rob the stream its stones?”
“Beg God, the Sky, for mercy for your wrongdoing!”
“Down with your ears to the Earth and listen to the stream!”
“Wheedle and call for its sounds and melody to come back.”
Indeed, the lively stream had subsided
Its sounds were fled to the vast remoteness
My head tuck in between my knees
I fitfully understood the ins and outs of this world and regretted
On a burning hot day we moved our stone horses and animals
To place them back into the stream
When I corrected my wrongdoing in this way
Indeed, the melody of the stream came back giggling and burbling
2. Second melody
Because of my childhood’s belief that stones sang
And, the desire to experience their magic song
In the hope to catch the melody that was to come from very far and very old times
Once I walked one whole day along the old river’s stony bed
When the steel punch tapped the stones’ tunes were waking up
Each stone was singing and jingling in its own way
When you get to hear the melody of a long-gone stream
You get to think of many things and understand the Mother Earth
Though, long time had passed since stones in the stream ceased to sing their songs
I saw they hadn’t forgotten their songs which are eternal, my Motherland
When your trimmed stones sing their songs again
One’s heart gets touched willy-nilly, my Motherland
To be born inseparably from your songs and music
In the bends of flow of infinite years
I am proud even of your stones that are musical instruments
And I love you more and more, my Motherland
* Yembuu: A v-shaped ingot of silver used as money in old times