The glorious moon rising among the ruins
Can you give me the good news of my tongue?
Tell me how the wall committed suicide stabbing it’s heart
And tell me what you gave up for civilization,
How skillfully you slaughtered now
The tears we left behind when we moved away from you with sorrow
Don’t you know the sword doesn’t dry the eye fountains?
I cry and the artist paints bead by bead
I’m crying Uyghur
Tell me how you once dressed
What you drank from the pools, what gifts you sat down on my table with
Tell me how you looked at the old caravans and laughed. Tell me.
Tell me how you cried, as I am crying here.
Let the others cry too, tell me.
There’s a scream here but now it’s called the exigence of the era
Only the oaths made in dark countries are spoken
My sorrow surges like the cause of this sad situation, you don’t care
This memory you bought with your million dollars and sponsorships
Will forget you, too, do not forget. Because you to make people forget
Spend I don’t know how much money. This is the most painful side of the war.
Why the Chinese are like a loose layer of sand, Sun asked,
“Because we are like a loose layer of sand,” he replied.
When you pour water and some cement in that loose sand with more freedom than it has to have
You thought you became something solid like a rock. You’re going into the space now.
You tour the dark side of the moon, what are you seeing though, beside the darkness.
Tell me, old friend, what did you learn from the poppy war that you became so cruel?
Why do you spew a grudge like a colonial feudal?
Why do you take the West as an example in selfishness and cruelty?
Weren’t you supposed to teach love without competing?
Why are you reminding me of your National Shame now?
Remember, this is a fight between us, half of the universe, maybe the whole of it, is with me.
The fire you lit on the edge of this hole of disgrace, the fear you hung above my head
Cannot destroy me. O freedom fairy, you dance with the moon light
like a demon by fire side. And you hurt with unforgivable dreams
You break the a smile, a reform, and a heart of a light.
It does not suit you to brag about such skills, dull and unimportant.
Wisdom of goodness can feed us,
The taste of this fruit of exploitation will only make you a death dealer,
That we haven’t shown any respect to such merchants and generals.
Don’t make me cry, pull yourself together. Let Uyghur stay Uyghur.
Translation: Burcu Ersöz