Let’s not blame life for being meaningless
One day loneliness will reach its peak
Even if we can’t find a way to achieve our desire
We can still shed silent tears.
Let’s cry, maybe our tears will be beautiful
If they are shed silently for love
Even if we’re always looking for bad luck
We’re lucky when every night turns into a dream.
Let’s not seek beauty only in the rose
The trace of blood left on the thorn is also beautiful
When we think of the heart pumping blood
Its beating is just like a sweet song.
From Perhat Tursun’s novel “The Art of Suicide”.
Translated by Aziz Isa Elkun.