Page 80 - June 2021 Litterateur
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Nigar Arif was born in 1993 on the 20th of January in Azerbaijan.
                                                           She  studied  at  Azerbaijan  State  Pedagogical  University  in  the
                                                           English faculty in 2010- 2014. Nigar Arif is a member of the “World
                                                           Youth  Turkish  Writers’  Union”  and  graduated  from  “III  Youth
                                                           Writers’  School”  in  “Azerbaijan  Writers’  Union”.  She  is  also  a
                                                           member of the “International Forum for Creativity and Humanity” in
                                                           Morocco.  Her  poems  have  been  partially  translated  into  English,
                                                           Turkish, Russian, Persian, Montenegro, and Spanish and have


                       been published in different countries. She was a participant of “IV LIFT- Eurasian Literary Festival
                       of Festivals“which was held in Baku in 2019 and “30 Festival Internacional De Poesia De Medillin”
                       in 2020 which was held in Colombia, "Panorama International Literary Festival 2020" in India at an
                       online platform. She participated at the” Word trip Europe” project, "100 poets around the World
                       for love" and “ Fourth Global Poet Virtual Meeting 2020” as well.

                                           Nigar Arif, Azerbaijan




                                                     RUN AFTER CHİLDHOOD








                                           My eyes slowly drift away from me,
                                           See the things through glasses as grow old.
                                           My feet have got a fast walk, running before me,
                                           ‘Cuz they’re in a hurry to reach to my childhood.

                                           My fluffy hair’s looking for its braid-time,
                                           It becomes white and bare like this winter,
                                           Time calls on wrinkles my face and hands
                                           road to road, as I’m bored year by year.


                                           That's how I'm getting older, tale by tale,
                                           My pains turn into small kids like my children,
                                           listening to my stories and fairy-tales,
                                           Don’t even get off my arms and knees.

                                           The old years like the black and white points,
                                           come on and stay in the domino-stones.
                                           I lose each game on purpose to my grandchild,
                                           At my old age – in my “childhood” years.























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