Let’s go to Mongolia!!
mirages canter
along the mountain cliffs
the sun still burns untamed
That was a Mongolian haiku. It is difficult to get much material on Mongolia, but somehow managed these delightful poems from the Net.
A poem by Tsbavuudorj
a very big, white elephant
A very big, white elephant
Has passed through the world.
He’s left with the calmness
Of the mighty ocean.
He’s left, uprooting
The serenity of the earth.
He’s left, shaking
Dew from the topmost leaves.
He’s returned, disturbing the sun gods.
He’s left, commandeering
Golden temples, shining with blood.
He’s left, waking
Grey peaks under snow.
He’s left, shutting the eyes of the mighty.
He’s returned, shaking East and West.
A very big, white elephant
Has passed through the world.
A very big, white elephant…
These two poems by Gun Ajaav
The sound of rain falling on the roof
The sound of rain striking the roof
The sound of rain striking the roof
Repeat the unrepeatable
The sound of rain falling on the roof
The sound of rain striking the roof
The sound of rain striking the roof
Repeat the unrepeatable
When Time takes a break
I take a deep breath,
And when it continues on
I heave a sigh.
When Time takes a break
I fall in love,
And when it continues on
I come down from Heaven.
When Time takes a break
I write poems,
And when it continues on
I drop my pen.
When Time takes a break
I open my eyes,
And when it continues on
I stare at Death.
Verse upon an offering scarf (by Terdenetsogt)
1.
A poet’s verse,
Whispered to autumn birds, is the teaching of God,
is the song of coming back,
is the fate of being left behind.
A poet’s song,
Offered to the winter moon, is a burning love,
is the wisdom of struggle,
is an echo from the mountains watching over us.
A poet’s feelings,
Caressing a spring flower, the tears of beauty,
are an undimmed sadness.
are a credulous desire.
A poet’s character,
Brimming over the summer skies, is a flash of stars,
is the sound of the universe,
is the garden of space.
A poet’s verse,
Offered to humanity, is a song of freedom,
is the wind moving a pennant,
is a point to lean upon, a body to wear away.
A poet’s words,
Famous throughout Mongolia, are the laws of the state,
are a decree of the state
are an oath to the state
2.
A poet is a glimmering of the universe.
A poet is a magnificent flash of light.
A poet is the whip of the sky.
A poet is the messenger of God.
A poem by lolziitogs
Looking at mountains, I feel I am a mountain.
Looking at mist and haze, I feel I am a cloud.
After the rain has fallen, I feel that I am grass, and
When sparrows start to sing, I remember I am morning.
I am not a human, that’s for sure.
When stars flare up, I feel I am the darkness
When girls shed their clothes, I remember I am spring
When I smell the desire of everybody in this world,
I realise how my quiet heart is a fish’s.
I am not a human, that’s for sure.
Under the colourful sky, an immense emptiness
Starting from today I am only…
This I scribbled the other day…
The rain trickles down the leaves
and gullies through the trunk
into the earth
and form a puddle at my legs reach.
The muddy water is hazy,
restless at the corners,
at the deeper centre a new world is taking shape
in stillness
in stillness
