Uzbek Poetry: Translated by Mahfuza Imamova

Iroda Umarova Ergash kizi was born in 1987 in Garasha village, Forish district, Jizzakh region of Uzbekistan. Her creative works have pride in local and national newspapers. She studied at Tashkent State Pedagogical University after Nizomi. She is the first grand prize winner of the national competition “Zomin” in 2007. Iroda’s 5 books have been published in Uzbekistan. Currently she is working for national newspaper “Bekajon”

THE PICTURE

I can’t love while torturing my soul,

I never set forth my love,

How it can be to love the homeland?!

I couldn’t realize during my life.

I can’t comprehend…

They shackle,

My tongue won’t dare to flatter-

My soul as if the ant-hill,

Has fallen apart when suffered…

While others searching for the happiness from the sky,

I stared at into the loneliness-

From the house that I was born,

To the land that my veins percolated!

A person who doesn’t give thanks,

If considers getting more opportunities from another land-

I just think about my father quietly,

I dream about my mother…

And a pride shines into my eyes,

There is the mark of happiness on my forehead.

The smell of the bread,

Smell of Uzbek,

Dispersing in the whole world…

Even if they have more tints,

They can’t break the might of a pencil.

It seems I might be a poetess,

I painted the picture of my homeland,

That with just my poem!

Iroda Umarova,

Uzbekistan.

Lobar Azizkhujaeva Sagdulla kizi was born in 1991 in Tashkent region of Uzbekistan. She studied at Uzbekistan State Institute of Arts and Culture. Lobar worked for national newspaper “7x7” for several years as a head of Literary Department. Her short stories collection “Angels without wings” was published. 

THE TORMENT OF LOVE

Why is your parting so much heavy?

As if I bow little it seems the mountain weighing me.

If my soul smokes and suffers on every burning,

Is it strange if I could not say “missed”?

It’s too hard the sufferings of loneliness,

As if it tears off my life on every visit,

If I stretch on my hand the soul is half, the world is incomplete,

Is it strange if I could not catch your hand?

I wish to find a place to lean on,

As if the stone cried and bled if I touched,

I will not dare even call your name,

Is it strange if I cannot wait with hope?

When I moaned the world was crying together,

If I groan the moon fell down from the Sky.

May I return to you on my dreams at least?

Is it strange if I cannot go back to my roads?

Why is your parting so much heavy?

Lobar Aziz,

Uzbekistan.

  

Dilmurod Dustbekov was born in 1989 in Zomin district, Jizzakh region of Uzbekistan. His creative works have been published in local and national newspapers. He studied at Uzbekistan State University of World Languages. Dilmurod’s 2 books have been published in Uzbekistan. Currently, he is working for national newspaper “Ma’rifat”.

EXPRESSION

My nation is a creed, my flag is love,

The whole Earth and the Sky are my homelands.

My pride as the mountain Zomin, my soul is a song,

Every piece of soil has my body.

Every morning I listened to magic words,

The clouds sang divine songs.

The trees trembled for that melody,

My heart returned as a bird from the sky.

And I walked to forward.

I met the evening and mornings on the way,

Sometimes I felt a love through the poison,

Occasionally, I felt poisons by the love.

My blood blew hard in my veins,

While I was drinking a love in with the bowl of a soul,

If I talked with someone on the way,

My tongue did not speak, but my soul did.

O, my great Sky, my dear soil,

This is the way – your temporal is still with me.

While I am alive and my trace is in the soil,

I and my words are the Skies, on you.

My nation is a creed, my flag is conscience,

The whole Earth and the Sky are my homelands.

The mountains are my heads and my heart is the birds,

Every piece of soil has my body.

Dilmurod Dustbekov,

Uzbekistan. 

 Setu, August 2017