I AM FROM UZBEKISTAN

I am your poet child
If you give me wings, I will fly to the sky
Mother says I love my country
My voice is ringing today.
Make a pen and paper an excuse
Expressing my love from the bottom of my heart
My blood flows in my veins
My homeland is connected to your veins.
You are burning in my heart
I will not write you poems
That's when my pen broke
I'd rather go beyond Sharia.
How would my Uzbeg describe you?
The pen is incapable of writing your tariff
Only one pain remained in my heart
My name as a poet is painful.