(Young Central Asian woman with long dark hair and a black coat over a white collared top)

Missing the spring

The dark days of winter come one by one,
Today I long for light, as small as a coin.
From its pitch-black face, the rain spares no tears,
Will the moonlit night ever understand me?

Not the dim drops poured down by dark clouds,
My heart today longs for the blossoms of spring.
I wish not for sorrow clouding my soul today,
Where have those happy eyes disappeared?

My spring, do not make your poet wait in such longing,
My heart yearns to speak verses only for you.
My awakening spring, even sleepless nights must end,
Burnt hearts, too, are destined to bloom again.

If you come, I have a single request for you:
Come, and live forever within my soul.
For I have waited for you with endless yearning—
Say again and again, “I missed you too, my spring.”

Student of Uzbek Language and Literature
Kattakurgan State Pedagogical Institute