June 13, 2024


You do not have the beauty of rose,
Not as gorgeous as a tulip is your shape.
The magic, friend of my heart in this world,
You cover my injuries as if you are a tape.

What are you? A flower, grass or trembling pain?
My heart gets pleasure from your fragrance.
The leaf which smells odor of my mum,
You saw off my father to his last place

You, heavenly flower planted in the Earth
Whilst spring appeared underneath a willow.
When I had come to world for the first time
You were scenting perfume upon my pillow.

If I give in, being defeated by fatigue
If I am invited to the divine world.
I believe that one day to be aware of me
You will be sent to my last place by Lord.

What are you? A flower, grass or trembling pain?

Rain… is a piece of my massive heart
Which is falling down like a wrecked glass.
And a brown leaf, an old tree –
Wishes of my poor sister
Which were waited a long and never came true.
They burned hope
Collecting it like the leaves of autumn.
It is still smoking.
That smoke makes eyes weep, makes heart cry.
Someone tries to hide himself,
Others peep from a hole
So as not to get wet or sick
Thanks to the pieces of my heart.
Oh, the Mother Earth, no one except you
Understand me like my mum.
I am absorbing into you slowly and slowly
Now as to end your sorrow
And to finish your pains,
To fulfill your dreams
I am absorbing into your roots, sister.

The midnight
My soul leans on stooped willow.
Rain washes faces of my dreams.
Tongue of my eyes blossom so well
Rainy streets consume my footprints.

The midnight
My pains are tangled like an ocean wave,
They yell to the seashore like an angry dog.
I want to present you my only heart but
You do not need it – what an epilogue.

The midnight
Rain and snow fall in a mixed way,
Curtains of blind fog will be torn down.
All I have will collapse like an old wall,
Heart faces great torture till the dawn.

The midnight
Moon is full, stars are bright, night is calm
My eyes get tired of waiting for you, love.
Like a feather, my soul moves to the stars
I am to stay in this loveless world, though.

The midnight…


Lightning, a skillful artist, gets ready
Shoots the beauty of nature in one.
Wind, adroit helper, running all the way
Makes the hair of girlish trees done.

Suddenly, making a threatening noise
Jealous rain arrives there in hurry.
Being vexed, it expels the wind and,
Slaps all the trees without sorry.

Instantly the leaves sigh in horror
The tree shouts: “Go away, please!”
Morning. Rain stops with all regret,
Trace of slap is seen in tree’s phiz.

Translated into English by Shokhrukh Usmonov

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