Joy I wrote my heart on
White paper and sang it.
I shared my spring and summer
Thoughts to reveal my heart’s yearning.
My heart is male deer.
My mental trap is unhandled.
My wind-born soul.
He never asks.
I think the upper ones desire this.
Spring breezes spread flowers.
It opens the road to higher destinations.
My address is lovely and long,
And rain falls on my way.
My birthright was happiness.
Happiness is calling me up!
Sharofova Gulshoda
Bukhara State pedagogical institute first-year student