Abdulhamid Chulpon

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

Great Uzbek poet Abdulhamid Sulaymon-ughli Chulpon was born in 1898 in Qatorterak neighborhood in Andijan City. He wrote his first work “Qurboni Jaholat” (The Victim of Ignorance) in 1914, at the age of 16. His first poem entitled “To My Turkestani Fellows” also was written in 1914. In the thirtieth, many articles criticizing Chulpon began to appear in local media and in 1932 he was obliged to leave for Moscow.
In 1924-1926, Chulpon worked as a translator, literary adviser and playwright at the Uzbek Drama Studio in Moscow. In 1935, he returned to Tashkent and worked at Khamza Theatre (he was one of the founders of the theatre). Сhulpon was arrested in 1937. On October 4, 1938, he was shot in Tashkent. Surprisingly, the judicial decision on death penalty was dated October 5, 1938.
Books by Chulpon: poetry collections – Renaissance (1923), Springs (1922), Secrets Of Dawn (1926), Tune (1923), Accompaniment; short stories, novels, plays and articles – The Victim of Ignorance, Doctor Muhammadiyor, At Moonlit Nights, A Tulip in Snow, A Baker Girl, The Present of the White King, Gavharoy, Violent, Comrade Qarshiboyev, Attack, Yorqinoy, Night And Day, etc.
We are presenting some poems by Chulpon in Uzbek and English languages.

SOUL

What is this, my heart, why such –
With the fetters made you friends?
Neither wail you have nor much
Of the cry, and slowly sense.

Abuse will never hurt a soul,
Will baseness forever leave?
When will broken be a hobble,
Swords are cut, but who‘ll believe?

You’re alive, not passed away,
You’re a man, act humanly,
Refuse the fetters, don’t obey,
In fact, you also were born free!

BEAUTY

I look at sky at night in darks,
And ask you from the brightest star.
That star inclining head remarks:
“I always dream of her afar.
In my dream she pretty thus -
Finer than the Moon and us!”

I sight straightly to moonrise,
From the moon to ask I start.
It says: “I met in dream – so nice,
With a beauty that in white.
Wrapping up with white so pretty,
More the sun and me, such beauty!”

When by me – with hanged hairs,
I always question – the morning breeze,
It tells: “I saw her and lost stairs,
Still looking for in stone, trees.
Once I’ve seen, she’s so attractive,
More than moon and sun, much active!”

When she leaves, the sun comes shiny,
Asking for you I entreat.
It runs away to hide, so shyly,
Says: “In actual I’ve met.”
In my witness she is charming,
More than moon and sun, such darling.

Poor man, how fell in love, me,
For her sake I was inflamed.
I gave my head to a deal so lovely,
And for what so long I’ve aimed?
Thus she’s bonny that I fondle,
More than moon and sun, best angel!!!

HOBBLE (CHAIN)

Fetter, ulcers in my body ‘ve not been treated yet this moment,
Spots of iron fingers wholly leaving not still bear torment.

You have such embrace, so awful, cold like and not so greedy,
Every leaf of people’s story may appear blemish bloody.

Each of eyes non-closed and fury makes anger to one nation,
From one fastener only ever the entire world gets mental tension.

Many years with padlock always wanting freedom stayed, I banded
To get rid of you in every chance of stagger I intended.

Fetter, stain that in my body has not taken yet its treatment,
But reliance is so longer to be in freedom, to be a great man!

Translated by Azam Abidov

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