Khajikurbonova Niginabonu
Khajikurbonova Niginabonu (Uzbekistan)
There is a garden which is very strange
Named for children
Birds and animals in this
They talk like a human.
The fruit bar is a jam
Sweet, sugary, or sour.
There are few deaf people
They live peacefully and happily.
The swallow’s cry
It stuck in the ear:
– Our wonderful garden
The gardener is dead.
When I walk in the garden, the garden is sad
Trembling on the sprout leaf,
Brown bear hair
In an instant, it became white.
His ear is prickling
He slapped immediately
To comfort the rabbit,
I was myself.
Cherries, pomegranates, plums
He was crying.
Pumpkins, pumpkins
Their faces turned pale.
They say: Our Nahot garden
That’s all there is to life,
My poet is dead
The nightingale is crying.
I told them: “Stop!”
The wailing does not go away.
As long as there are children
Anwar Obid will not die!
These gardens are blooming,
We plant many seedlings.
After all, the poet shared
We have real love!”
The Golden Spike and the Golden Prayer
The sun’s golden light,
The wheat harvester.
To his ransom,
The gardener shouted with joy.
At the head of the field,
Did you see it?
Every spike was visible,
Turned into gold.
Golden blessings,
The circles are on the four sides.
When Shirmay is eating bread,
Uzbek table.
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