We haven’t met yet, We were supposed to go to war together; Yet, you went to battle alone, becoming my very adversary. Still, we haven’t met yet, Because I never went to war.
A black cat blocked my path, Facing the movement of the parrots, I have withdrawn my weapons. The sissoo trees have welcomed me into their fold— Whose shadows fall even in the sun, like a drizzling rain. There is no wailing in the sound of the wind, Only the eternal friendship of sunlight, breeze, and leaves. I am now with the fish, we do not have to go to war…
Even then, we are marked for slaughter… Since we haven’t met yet, You haven’t been able to kill me. To destroy me, you are building heavy missiles, Warplanes, even nuclear bombs; While I am weaving a net of sky-blue dreams.
If we ever meet, I will give you the messages of the birds, I will take flight with you like wild geese, I will build nests on new islands; If we ever meet, I will give you love.
We haven’t met yet; You are searching for me to kill, And I am searching for you to love.
Long ago, there lived a just and kind king. He always tried to keep his kingdom intact, but the grime and old traditions in the palace troubled him.
One day, he gathered his troops and decided to go on a short foray. “Let us not remain only in the palace; we must go and see our people,” he said. On the way, they passed through many villages and saw people rummaging to clean the streets but living in ruined houses. Some had poor dwellings, while others had no shelter at all.
This sight left a very poignant mark on the king’s heart. “My old policy was only about collecting taxes and maintaining order,” he thought. “Now I will begin a new way.”
He announced a decree: the poor would be given estates, and those who lost their homes would be helped to build new houses. To support these works, he ordered that unnecessary trees be pruned and lands be cleared. Soon every village began to prosper, and people started to live in peace.
The king looked at his son and said,
— My son, life is not always predictable. Sometimes people drift adrift in the current. Our duty is to lend them a hand. These good deeds will remain our greatest legacy.
Years passed. When the king died, his son continued his father’s noble work. He created fair policies, never marginalized anyone, and the palace continued to flourish with beauty and honor.
The people were grateful and said,
— Our king not only built a state but also warmed our hearts. The name of the Generous King will live forever!
Hadaa Sendoo is a world-renowned Mongolian poet, translator, and literary critic. He is considered one of the leading voices in contemporary poetry, and his work is a unique milestone in modern poetry worldwide. His work often explores the intersection of nature, nomadic traditions, and universal human suffering. Critics note his ability to blend traditional Mongolian subjects with modernist and avant-garde sensibilities. Sendoo’s poems have been translated into more than 40 languages. In 2012, at the Poetry Parnassus festival in London, where his poems were literally dropped by helicopter over the city as part of a “Rain of Poems” event. He has received numerous honors, including: Poet of the Millennium Award (2000). Mongolian Writers Union Prize (2009). World Peace Prize (2019).
