Where do I begin
To tell about the story
And the beauty of ancient Samarkand?
Inspired by poets and
playwrights, called
The Pearl of the East
City of Famous Shadows
The Center of the Universe
Crossroads of the Silk Route
The Jewel of Islam
Like something
punctured
The sun came out and splashed the landscape
Along the purple road we flew
Paced to the north of the old city
A sun dried basically
unchanged old town
We drove through pot holed streets
High walls and mud brick houses
Shady Russian trees
lined University Boulevard
More beautiful than I ever imagined
Approaching an almost mythical Eden
Radiating eastward to the colossal dimensions
Of the stunning Ragistan ensemble
Resonant of Atlantis
and romantic legends
Decorative wealth on show
Magnificent works of Islam
The noblest public Square in the World
Located in the heart of the city
My eyes were locked
Onto heavy swells of melon domes
Breathtaking monuments
Rendered to Tamerlane's immortality
An enduring mark of nomadic lands
Embellished with
buildings
Sheathed in millions of blue glazed tiles
Twin flanking mosques
Mausoleums and Madrassahs (religious colleges)
With geometric and arabesque designs
Inscribed in stars and foliated scripts of calligraphy
Mosaic tile work and
polychrome tiles in deep colors
Blue for the color of the sky
Yellow for the color of the sun
Green for nature
Black to ward off evil spirits
Tall portals built to
face
And catch the prevailing winds
The running streams of water
Giving a slight cooling effect in the summer
Past history of
Russian tsars and Turkoman slaves
Genghis Khan erupted from the East
Destroyed and razed the city
Tamerlane, conqueror of the world
Resurrected and left an architectural legacy
Silhouettes of
towering minarets
Graceful arches of portals
Glittering at night
Sounded the clearest echoes of past splendor
I can still hear the
Persian music
From surnai and karnai
pipes
Together with the drumming of the doira tambourine
The twang of the dutar guitar
Boom of the nagora drum
And the kling-kling of bells
The day brought sweat
on my chest and thighs
My shirt stuck to me in patches
That later on became damp with the wind
As we walked
The sun was hot on the back of my neck
Staying at Hotel Najiba
A traditional bed and breakfast place
Bedana birds in three cages partially covered by
cloth
That hung on the grapevine trellises
Woke me up with songs of “peek-pit-a clack”
Out on the street
Affable smiling faces
Children playing
Keen to speak English
"Hello, how are you? What is your name?”
They asked every time we walked by
The Main Bazaar was
the liveliest show in town
Towering orange and olive green spices in burlap sacks
Squirming fresh or smoked fish
Carcasses of lamb legs hung on metal hooks
Embroidered dresses, shirts, shawls and turbans
Pad paper, notebooks and school supplies
A frenetic farmers market
Hunt for anything, you will find it here
Surprised to discover
a bar
With an admiration for Spain