You’ve been created by the word of “shame”,
My generous,
Share water to the mare and don’t let young camel die.
Don’t let it die while licking a salt and sand,
Just after it was born!
Tell me, about your ancestors, called “patience”,
Let me love you more, Aral.
My generous,
Forgave the night that your fishes stole,
You let many people be remorseful.
You considered the pup as a kiddy and forgave,
That’s stolen your geese.
The greensickness started torturing brides,
Those brides before giving birth,
They thought sadly and you felt sorry,
Trains that full of chemicals went to them,
You felt sorry, you felt pain.
Today, can fables return your health?
That evaluated you as the millions.
My decent,
As if a mother whose kids went away,
You suffered alone, moaned alone.
You sprayed a handful of salty water, didn’t divulge,
On your chest, that has burnt in the fire.
Some people made parties on your edges,
Even they hunt in the morning, evenings,
While shooting swans, chasing a deer,
Even they scattered a salt on your eyes,
You pained quietly.
Tell me dear about your loyalty,
Let me love you more, Aral.
They calculated big money there,
Mines calculated there small and small,
They calculated profit that comes from you,
They didn’t consider only your future.
Today can the chests return your health?
That attached medals thoughtlessly.
Can the big pockets return?
That the lost future and power again.
Newspapers were busy while praising someone,
Magazines were busy while praising someone,
Oh, how many books, poems were written,
Today, can the tales return your health?
That written before about you,
My decent,
Women hair swept hoarfrost and snow,
With an aim of to gain more sandals,
Even the stone dropped to the field,
Someone commended with 6 million of a crop.
The people who disputed over gold,
Now kisses your apron silently.
I realized,
You are a mother,
If thousands of young camels calls,
As if the mare that came back from a desert,
You will return,
Let me love more your udder that milk flew down,
Motherhood, you never forget your motherhood.
Let me love more your lessons, edification for us,
Let me love you more, Aral.

Zulfiya Muminova,