Fear by Bakhtiyar Vahabzade (born 1925) In my left hand there's an old wound - A legacy from my childhood, Unaware that wood burns, I seared my hand on a piece of charcoal. A warning hissed at me, The sound of flesh singeing, But I wasn't afraid, I felt fear only when I burned my hand. The real experience of life began with that fire. Colorful flames from the embers caressed my childish eyes. I don't know why everything I've touched since birth has burned me. I wasn't afraid until I was burned; I didn't know fear until I left my childish ways. Since being burned, I'm careful when playing with fire, And so life begins, and continues as a habit. From "Bakhtiyar Vahabzade. Poems, Short Stories and a Play", edited by Hadi Sultan-Qurraie, and translated by Talat Sait Halman. Indiana University Turkish Studies Publications: Bloomington, Indiana, 1998. Back to - Bakhtiyar Vahabzade Index Home | About Azeri | Learn Azeri | Arabic Script | Contact us © Azerbaijan International. Copyright since 2003. All rights reserved.