Show only works authored by Musa Cälil
A dream in the prison
I dreamt of my daughter.
She came and stroked my forelock with her hand.
— Oh you have been away for long! — se told me,
The child cast her glance right into my soul.
My head was going round for joy,...
German, English, Русский, Tatarish, Uzbek
I am healthy again. And my tired brain
Is free of oppressive gloom.
My forehead is damp. As though it covered
With dewdrops at the hour of blooming dawn.
I can see again the world rich with light,...
Tatarish, English, Uzbek, Русский
If only there was a will
If I was a swallow,
If I made noise with wings,
At the hour when the dawn flashes
And the Chulpan-star rises,
My home, my land,
I would fly to you,
As soon as the dawn sheds light....
German, English, Tatarish, Русский
It sometimes happens
It sometimes happens that the soul stands firm.
Although death’s cruel wind blows everywhere,
The soul's frail blossom is too proud to tremble:
Even the tiniest petal will not stir....
Tatarish, Uzbek, Русский, Chinese, English
When the war is over
We will gather around the table one May,
Our glasses with crimson wine will be filled,
There’ll be festively merry songs all the day,
Songs to drown out the glasses' silvery trill....
Uzbek, English, Tatarish, Русский, Chinese