Editor’s Note: What follows is part of a cross-blog survey that explores what Central Eurasia might look like fifteen years from now.
May I please go back in time?
I don’t want this industrial world anymore.
Please let me go back in time
Where my ancestors were warriors;
Bareback on wild horses.
Where horses were spirits;
Spirits of Bravery and Freedom.
No car could
Instead I want to hear
The wolf crying to the pale moon.
Where the moon can be seen
In the dark and deafening sky.
Allow me to go back in time-
To see my brothers build
And my mother preparing
The warm fire in the middle.
And I, a child, dancing
Around her legs.
Can take me
I beg you: Let me go back in time
To see the green blanket
Of nature spread itself
In front of me
Like an eternal sea
Where waves never touch a coast.
And you cry: “All this space! All this space!”
And if you were to appreciate this space
And if you knew the meaning of happiness
And if you were a bit more like me
Would you let me go back in time?