The Heart

Heart.
Because of you, misfortunes have no end,
Where you are, danger lies close or distant.
Cast away deceit, turn back and repent,
For on Judgment Day, there will be questions to answer.

I envy those without a heart,
They don’t burn, don’t love, and don’t even die.
How can they? For they have no heart.
But me? I have a thousand hearts…
Yet still, something feels incomplete.

Some have hearts, but they’re lifeless, dead,
Even if torn apart, no blood would be shed.
Inside them, parasites hum their tune,
Even a dog wouldn’t eat what’s thrown to it soon.

Are there such people in life, I wonder?
Yes. Don’t you see? Look closer, further.
Those who sell conscience and homeland for gold,
With no compassion, their hearts are cold.

The heart — a delicate, unique creation,
It cannot be left unguarded, not for a moment.
Close your eyes briefly, and it might be led astray,
Even by desires for the unworthy in the fray.

Shoxijahon Urunov — student of Bukhara State Pedagogical Institute