Abdulla Oripov

Category: Uzbek modern poetry Published: Sunday, 29 September 2013

ABDULLA ORIPOV, national poet of Uzbekistan, playwright, statesman, was born in 1941 in Kashkadarya region, Uzbekistan. He has more than 15 poetry books. His works have been translated into many foreign languages. He has many awards for his great poetry and social activity. Currently he is at the head of Uzbekistan Writers Association

TALKS

- I am poor and unblessed,
Mother, let me go to You.
- No back way to whom have passed,
Be more patient and endure.

- Tell me, why I came this world
Such a pitiful and hard?
- Me myself it wheezing held,
Baby, all it disregard.

- Men become malicious why,
Always struggles with each other.
- Suffered I this torment by,
And not know the reason rather.

- I believed the men – was humble,
Only patience – faith, you said.
- And for me that trust made trouble,
In result a tomb I made.

- No place indeed to follow by,
Mummy, let me move your way.
- You are exhausted, pretty my,
Stand a little, oh, I say.

- Call me on, just you can save,
Heart will happy be at all.
- If you also go to grave,
Who’ll me in the world recall?

TO WHOM I LEAN

Once a youngster boy demanded,
Why you cry to God in sad?
Can you my reply amend,
None I have to lean but God.

Cheat you always round, space,
Friend along with love disgrace,
If all day one in such case,
None I have to lean but God.

I am not ungrateful but,
I have also heart-to-heart,
What to do if burns me child,
None I have to lean but God.

Justice, faith and sweet word -all,
Life like flood or horserace called,
While alive they make you fall,
None I have to lean but God.

Such a base was world for age,
And to seek devotion – strange,
Father own son avenges,
None I have to lean but God.

Lots of eyes one heart await,
Not soul, but the fame and fate,
Lighting not burn up all state,
None I have to lean but God.

Why I lived in world unkind,
As the naked horse was wild,
Crowd, I do reprimand,
None I have to lean but God.

Be not offended if you’re friend,
Maybe they as grievous stand,
A man like me would tell in sad,
None I have to lean but God.

Life is also goes to close,
Slowly fades I planted rose,
You may lean on self and boast,
None I have to lean but God.

Translated by Azam Abidov

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