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The Hyacinth Review published it today! Please read the full poem on the site here. And my tweet about it is here.
A small excerpt:
They are unearthed by their own absence, / seen only in the slain rims of dreams / where we used to hold mirrors to see / behind us, so long and loved. / All of it is lost, so it could be written now.
As from my last newsletter:
Dilara, this poem is absolutely stunning. Thank you for sharing the ideas and inspirations you were exploring when writing this: I'm deeply interested in the ways that colonization and persecution have destroyed languages and cultures and this poem feels like one step towards defeating those forces.
—Nafkote Tamirat, author of The Parking Lot Attendant
The poem is an exploration as to how a large amount of Indigenous Central Asian oral history and literature became lost to many as we were separated from our roots through colonialism and genocide. My mother’s side of the family is the main focus of the piece, as her grandparents were both refugees, and my mother’s family is directly connected to the Central Asian steppes— our homeland. The Steppe Classics, in this case, are all the names, histories, and stories my family had to leave behind.
I’m very glad to have finally published this piece, which is also the first poem I felt proud of writing. In any case, it’s been the catalyst towards writing more and more clearly, and I hope to share others soon.