Thomas J. Payne Market Development |
The poetry of Uzbekistan. The following verses are created by my good friend Akbar Aliev of Tashkent, Uzbekistan. Akbar is one of the ancient land's preeminent poets. Educated in St. Petersburg, then the Soviet Union, Akbar dared to pursue his love for poetry, and the ancient visions of his Silk Road land of Samarkand. Now that Uzbekistan is an independent Republic, it is Akbar's dream to share his poetry with the world. Please communicate with us via e-mail and we will forward to Akbar. Re-visit this site in the future and you will see the magic of Uzbek poetry in this beautiful language. To Antonio Vivaldi, to his composition" The seasons of a year' Sowing holy profit on the bosom of winter white Impending noble forbearance to rebernous spring light Putting reliability on the spirit of summer bright In golden autumn's heart discovering satisfaction The river of life streams in human history's heart, It's move is an experience, it's aim is perfection. Language Every sense songs as a nightingale in it's tongue'So to a holy heart many languages belong. In love's language if a sense sings a song Divested hearts give up their wrong. Healthy senses are treasures of the heart Mute feelings as slaves roam all along; if savage senses glance with hostile eye Heart's desire is to keep the spirit high. if the heart discovers the gospel truth's law Senses admit the justice as a miracle door' To epoch's heart if the reason finds the way The sentences of prophecy the tongues always say. In the tongues of hearts the kindness is alive As a wonderful music to be listened to all life. A Word Stronger than all disasters the charms of a wordit inspires motherly love and all the world hi it's right time and right place if the word is said A jewel finds on the ringlet wisdom it's place. To Heredotes If the history is locked , the discovery is in silenceThe past is the single key to the future And who feels the breath of the ancient past He makes the history give birth to the flitter. Mendacity It is an eternal ruler on the ancient crownTo it's tastes honesty and remorse are unknown It is young forever, and it's ages are stolen From the commencement it accompanies the all human On it's perfectly rimmed lips are ironic smile But a pot replaces it's heart, it is full of bile. Turning into a lust plunders on highways at night With the eyes of authority it looks at so bright So it's golden cages is every fools dream, And ways it passed by are full of skulls. If every generation sucking of the goodness' chest In labor and in creation obtains true conclusion Then who worship the falsity as an idle goddess Will look for success on the desert of illusion. To Balzac An are not worth of vital probation.It's weight and scales holy, the life is it's remuneration It's persecution is steadfastness, it's demand is consideration. It's design is education, and it's praise is a punishment. To Attar[Middle Ages, Persian poet and a philosopher] if the fate does not share it's generosity with you if the environment is sick and the life is greedy to you Seek after the lesson of kind every evil And evil images itself as well fulfills your will. To Pushkinif love as the sun in life's flower garden Gives miracle happiness to a bud every moment In poetry writing happy heart's account By the order of the moment to dye is a holy omen. To IsokratesTurn your reason into a bow Turn your thoughts into an arrow Turn the world into a target so And create a bright tomorrow without sorrow. To SocratesIii youth's opinion the life is an eternity In old age's opinion it is an equality. In your young years limit the eternity And every limit will create eternal equality. To Hugoe If the hatred denies measure's powerIt turns into betrayer to friends, and aid to foe If it drinks love's wine from the spring of measure It turns into shield for will, gives might to mind. To OvidyTo learn from a foe is a twin luck Every lesson awakens love to the foe. And every lesson brings twin treasures You found friendship, and your feelings are mellow. To AristotleLike an ant who uneasily acquires knowledge Under his knowledge's light many mainland's are bright And who hides his heart from knowledge's light He is the single ruler in the wild of night. To MendelThe mystery of hereditary is tiny and great It always consists of life and fate. If its key could be found, it'll bring a luck If the mystery isn't desifed, luck remains under lock. To Mashiab[an Uzbek poet, 17-18 centuries] If the tongue sang the evil's song once It can not stop and sings twice. Through the tongue envy corrupts the heart And it's venom kills every good in bud. EnvyA slim body bent under the envy's tyranny The body is a bow, the face is straw color He was walking his last way to a cemetery By chance he met Lookman, the latter said: Name your disease, I'll make up the medicine to it. Staring at Lookman Envy gave freedom to it's tongue: Oh, do not ask about it, it is incurable forever My eyes having seen your slim body it makes uproar. The moment created the simple truth to sir Lookman: I am Looknan you are the Envy-my old rival Be loyal to simple truth and call yourself with your name The sincerity is your single savior from the death. Though to call the truth by it's name was so hard The Envy managed to call himself by his name, oh Lord! A miracle happened, the body obtained it's youth. Sir Lookman concluded the meeting with serious brow: Try to make your heart cry for others' sorrow Try to make it share from others' happiness as borrow It will put the Envy to death and make your feelings mellow. The song of a nightingale The spring is passing by and my moans do not stop itMy fourteen is indifferent to me, my tears do not disturb it. To fly and catch it, but my wings have not the might To share my feelings with the bud, but the time is night. My songs are always with me, let my heart just say Or sing it's feelings to the breeze and let it calmly take them away. If I begin my song at sunset, the dawn does not come while I sing, If I begin my song at dawn, the sun does not come while I sing. TreasureA fathomless treasure imbights the ray and radiate And treasury hearts do not confess sorrows. Oh heart, you are my treasure, you are crying why? Is the drakes ruling over the light? Under savage hooves, sorry, I thrown you, At the schools of wildness I brought up you Wild hooves and fangs left scars on you And every scar's price is a treasure of thousand trunk Stop crying for a while, and listen to the tongue When it barks as a dog, all dogs are disgraced, When it growls as a beast, all beasts are chased Enough, what is the use of weeping oh my heart! In the polyphonic world every sound is a treasure. To an angel of inspirationWhen the hearts of mothers are scratched by moan When the reason and spirit are captured by sorrow When the grudge thrusts the heart with a sharp dagger Be my hearty friend and talk to my heart Prove your worth creating the art of kindness. You are my proud, my song and hearty strings You are the heat of my heart and the rays of my eyes You are my might, my hate, my joy and my adoration You are the bright light on the path of my life. Let us breathe together' unit our hearts all life long, Then step together to the eternity, to it's empire belong. To a dancing girlOn the rays of colors dances butterfly Over the roses it flies with care and alert With delicate wings expressing subtle shy Hiding submissiveness in smooth fly Bearing myths about the world young and bright. As if making day command over the night Words obtaining wings make the heart fly And the rainbow of feelings cover the sky. Thee dancing in the world gardens never dye Give my message to the flowers, be high Let the world reborn, bury the lye I watched flowers' life much and long Planted colorful flowers, sang them song But all of them faded soon and forever Adorning my heart's garden never. Tell me the stories and secrets of your dance Make sacred feelings of my heart glance Let them make with eternity friends Give wings to wishes, give them chance You give names to them, save and take care Let them in the lives garden be forever dear. The song of a roseMy free heart is full of love of spirit A pare of lips are the brims of a passionate goblet. With ardent feelings my lips are scarlet They are begging for love's wine, asking to meet Do press your burning lips to mine And drink the wine of love, let the intimacy born. Saying unbloomy fading is the permanent fortune Courting winds torn my breast at the down They terbed my senses, make my heart tremble of fright The unhealthy spirit will kill me one night. My every pit is a chapter of faithful book Lips are to lips, heart is to heart, forever together Let the eternity and our appointment separate never Do give to my heart with a tender look. The End... Tom's Notes: I have highlighted a few words in maroon, as they are not English, but were presented in Akbar's translation. Akbar has promised translations of six more Uzbek poems next month. mailto:thomaspayne@msn.com More Stuff!
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