Uyghur Bread (Poem)

 

Mt Zunun

In the land of silk and spice, where tales unfold,

Amidst the ancient deserts, in hues of gold,

Lies a treasure so revered, a culinary art,

Uyghur bread, a masterpiece, from the heart.

In Uyghur lands, where bread is a pride,

Countless kinds, a journey to decide,

From Khotan to Turpan, flavours abound,

A symphony of tastes, so renowned.

Naan bread, with sesame, soft and warm,

A heavenly delight, a savoury charm,

Aknan, the pancakes with a thousand holes,

Soak up the sweetness, as joy unfolds.

Goshgirde, with spiced meat, baked to perfection,

A cherished treat, a culinary connection,

Goshnan, with greens and meat embraced,

In every bite, a memory is traced.

And let's not forget, the aromatic tea,

Pairing with bread, a timeless decree,

Once you taste, forever you'll yearn,

For Uyghur bread, a love that'll burn.

Its essence lingers, in hearts and minds,

A taste of Uyghur, forever entwined,

With every bite, you'll surely find,

A longing that stays, a love undefined.

Khotan bread, oh meaty and so very tasty,

With spices dancing, leaving none hasty,

Folded secrets within, a savoury surprise,

A feast for senses, beneath sunlit skies.

Kashgar bread, flat and crispy, it delights,

A symphony of flavours, on starry nights,

From tandoor's fiery kiss to mouth's embrace,

A taste of heaven, a journey to embrace.

Kucha bread, wide and thin, it's designed,

To hold the tales of generations entwined,

Whispers of history, whispered in the air,

A bond with heritage, forever to bear.

Turpan bread, thick and oh so yummy,

A hearty indulgence, oh so soothing to the tummy,

Baked with love and traditions, passed along,

A heritage preserved, a culinary song.

Kumul bread, with a touch of melon for breakfast's start,

Turpan bread, kissed by raisins, a sweet work of art,

Each bite a journey, a story to unfold,

In the grains of time, their histories enfold.

In Ghulja's embrace, with milky tea in hand,

A tradition continued, a bond forever grand,

Its bread, a dance of flavours, so unique,

A symphony of taste, a tale to speak.

Lopnur bread, ancient and steeped in history,

A taste of heritage, a culinary mystery,

Whispers of ancestors, in every crumb,

Through generations, its essence will hum.

Bread for the long journey, a culinary art,

A companion to wanderers, a food close to heart,

Stay fresh for long, and warms the stomach's core,

With this bread, hunger departs, evermore.

Uyghur bread, a marvel, both tasty and durable,

Enduring like the mountains, unwavering and pure,

It nourishes not just bodies but spirits too,

A symbol of resilience, a soul's rendezvous.

Oh, the tales of bread, never-ending and bright,

From kitchens of love to tables of delight,

They bind us all, with a shared embrace,

A tradition of nourishment, a timeless grace.

So, let the ovens burn, and the dough rise,

As we savour the bread, beneath vast skies,

With every bite, we honour the past,

The stories of bread, forever to last.

So, cherish the bread, the gift of Uyghur's land,

With every bite, let history's legacy expand,

May the Flavors linger, and stories be told,

Of Uyghur bread, a treasure to behold.

25/07/2023/ UK