Namig Dalidagli

Namig Dalidagli was born on September 29, 1970, in Azerbaijan into a family of educators. 

He is a journalist and philologist by profession.

Namig Dalidagli’s poems and articles were published in the press as early as his school years. He has been actively working in the mass media since 1993.

Dalidagli has been engaged in literary creation since his youth. Many of his poems have been published in literary collections both in his home country and abroad. 

He is the author and co-author of four poetry books and five scientific works. Several of his poems have been adapted into songs.

Dalidagli is a member of the Azerbaijan Writers’ Union and the Azerbaijan Journalists’ Union. He has been awarded the Presidential Scholarship, the “Golden Pen” award, and other literary and media honors, including the “Ahmad Yasevi” award from Kazakhstan and the “Chingiz Aytmatov – Golden Pen” medal from the Kyrgyz Republic.

Namig Dalidagli is currently the founder of the information websites “Manevr.az,” “Dalidag.az,” and “Sumqayitfakt.az,” as well as the chairman of the “Dalidag” literary association.

…IRREGULAITY OF THE MISSING IN THE CITY AND VILLAGE

My dear rose,

It’s easier to miss in the city without you.

But here…

Here is more terrible,

so gruelling…

Among the mountain trails,

And the different flowers in it,

the man can die of the missing…

Here the grass,

Even the bees and butterflies,

Either the violets,

Or the insects

-All the things are going to join you when you miss…

My dear rose…

It’s easier to miss

in the streets of the city…

Like the waster dogs,

The free coke bottles,

trailing on the corners,

The fir trees seing in the four seasons,

on the same dress

along the year…

Missing is alive here…

Like flowers, butterflies,

Insects and bees…

Somehow…

Can you imagine now,

How i miss?…

***

…REPORTAGE FROM THE HOTEL ROOM…

You are so far…

You are far away…

There is only a long way

wearing my thoughts,

imaginations

in every single day.

I’m afraid, my darling,

We’ve no promise

for a new date,

Those “magical moments”

as you said.

How can I find a key

to open the gate of hopes?

I only see the dreams,

On the colour of parting.

And all the memories

On the corners of that 12th room,

Bear a fruit in the name of parting.

You know?

I scrached the pictures of my hopes,

On the walls of this hotel

after you..

‘Cuz the pictures never die…

Can you come back please?

Can you come back now,

Not only for me,

But also for those pictures?

 Author: Namıg DALIDAGLI

Presented by: Maria Teresa Liuzzo (Italy)