Poetry from Eva Petropolou Lianou

Middle aged European light-skinned woman with a white knit hat and long blondish hair.

Unloved Woman 2

I was alone for years…

Like a tree

During the rain

So when I met this man

It was love at the first sight

I think

Talking hours on the phone

Talking hours over the dinner table

-U are only mine, he Whispers for years

– U belong to me, he repeat day after day

I didn’t react when he searched my bag, my phone, my Facebook account..

He told me to delete my social media accounts

He told me no need to go to work because he will take care of me

He told me, never go out alone…

I do not like!!

I did not react,

I did not go away

I did not talk to anyone

I keep my secrets deep inside

Without smile

Without tears

One night, they found me

In a fetal position

Covered with blood

He stabbed me with the kitchen knife….

After we had celebrated our 5th anniversary

The police described the whole scene

as a

Crime of passion

……….. 

Speak up!!!! 

Open the door and run!!!!

Do not be afraid!!! 

Poetry from Eva Petropolou Lianou, translated from English to Arabic by Egyptian poet Ahmed Farooq Baidoon

Middle-aged white woman with a white knitted cap, long light brown hair, and a colorful scarf.


Translated into Arabic by Egyptian poet Ahmed Farooq Baidoon

Mother is the doctor for any sickness

Mama is the country that everyone loves

without conquering

 Mama is joy and sorrow Mama the power

Mama the forgiveness

One word was created by God To forgive people

 Say it every day

 Call her if they put chains on you

To sweeten it the wound

To bring peace

My mom, you’re unique

You never told them you were upset

With gold I will cherish you

Chosen person

 I crown you My mother

 My sun

My compass

Eva Petropoulou Lianou 

Two Middle Eastern men in coats and dark pants standing next to each other in an Arabic bookstore.

إيفا بيتروبولو

الأمُّ طبيبٌ لكل الامراض

هي ذَا موئل كل مُحب

بلا غزو

أمي هي البهجة والفاجعة والقوة 

هي نبع التسامح والغفران

كلمة الله للناس من خلقه لسؤدد التسامح

 قل اسمها كل يوم 

نادها لمَّا يكبلوك بالأغلال

لتطبيب تلك الجراح

لتجلب إياك السلام 

أمي.. أنتِ متفردة

لم تخبريهم أبداً بأنك حزينة ومحبطة

سأغدق عليك بنعماء من الذهب التبريّ

أنتِ مختارتي

أتوجك.. أمي

أيا شمسي.. 

Translation 

 Ahmed Farooq Baidoon
Egypt 

Poetry from Pat Doyne

FULL CIRCLE

Once we were an outpost of an empire.

Looted, used—as colonies tend to be.

Grievances were real. A core of thinkers,

afire with notions of democracy,

set off a revolution. Stars and stripes!

Fight for freedom!  Down with tyrant kings!

Independence gained, this founding crew

invent a fledgling nation, full of hope.

States are sovereign, but united. Three

branches anchor checks and balances.

One makes laws. One handles all the finance.

President’s a leader, not a king.

But don’t forget the peasants, now empowered

to vote for congressmen and presidents.

Created equal, yes, but rabble-rousers

target commoners– unschooled,  like children

who follow blindly men that dangle candy.

Even Senators can be beguiled.

And that’s how this old firebrand gains a foothold.

Hoodwinks voters. Preys upon their fears.

Stokes racial grudges.  Rule by ultra-rich

works best when workers are no more than slaves.

And women? Slaves by gender. Slap them down.

Strip the right to vote, to rule their bodies.

This cartoon clown has seized the highest courts;

bought off lawmakers with threats and bribes;

won a loyal cult, who swallow lies,

who clap and cheer, who’d like to make him king.

He plans to rule an empire.  Will annex

Greenland, Gaza, Panama Canal…

History’s come full-circle. Bites its tail.

The colony that once broke free of England

has now become Old England, Putin-style,

ruled by our own mad George III. What’s more,

a widening chasm cuts off rich from poor.

Can revolution’s smoke be far behind?

 Copyright 3/2025               Patricia Doyne

Poetry from Alexander Faynberg, translated from Uzbek to English by Shukurillayeva Lazzatoy

Young Central Asian woman with a black coat with white embroidery standing in a roomful of people and flags.

ALEXANDER ARKADYEVICH FEINBERG 

Tell me, driven by dreams and faith,

You’ll never turn back now, will you?

You’ve left your shore, far behind,

Seeking only a distant miracle?

Where to? Like a flame beyond reach,

Your dream will never be fulfilled.

A miracle is always a wave,

While the shore is ever the land.

Translation by Shukurilloyeva Lazzatoy

Poetry by Alexander Faynberg, translated to English by Shukurillayeva Lazzatoy

Young Central Asian woman with a black coat with white embroidery standing in a roomful of people and flags.

ALEXANDER ARKADYEVICH FEINBERG 

If you wander lost in the darkest night,

Do not despair at the cruel and bitter weather.

For darkness never lasts as your sole companion,

There’s a fire burning, flickering in the distance.

This fire, as you roam, lost and weary,

Will give you warmth and kindness, freely offered.

Your hope and faith will surely return,

For fortune never turns its back forever.

If the biting wind extinguishes the flame,

And you suddenly find yourself back in the dark,

The last resort is a simple act –

Stop, and kindle a bonfire without delay.

Carefully strike a match in your hand,

Prepare to light a fire, drawing on your tobacco.

In the pathless wilderness, ignite a bonfire, start a blaze,

Become a fire yourself for someone in need.

Translation by Shukurilloyeva Lazzatoy

Poetry from Alexander Faynberg, translated to English by Shukurillayeva Lazzatoy

Young Central Asian woman with a black coat with white embroidery standing in a roomful of people and flags.

ALEXANDER ARKADYEVICH FEINBERG 

He who has no tongue has no rights,

We’ve poisoned the oceans’ embrace.

Dolphins leap and land upon the shore,

Dying without a single word to say.

Trees are silent, forests are felled.

The mountain’s peak, locators subdue.

In the desert sky, a nuclear fire blazes,

Burning voiceless grass and herbs away.

Water offers no retort, nor does stone,

A lion will leap into flames, bowing his head to the blow.

Birds of flight perish as bullets take aim.

Since creation, this ancient world

We are indifferent. We haven’t died of shame.

Why did you give language to man, O God?!

Translation by Shukurilloyeva Lazzatoy

Essay from Shukurillayeva Lazzatoy Shamshodovna

Young Central Asian woman with a black coat with white embroidery standing in a roomful of people and flags.

An Analysis of Literary Elements in Aleksandr Faynberg’s Poetry

Uzbekistan State World language university

English language and literature 1st faculty

Shukurilloyeva Lazzatoy Shamshodovna

Phone number: +998507003757

Email: shukurillayevalazzatoy@gmail.com

Abstract: This article explores the literary elements and thematic concerns present in the poetry of Aleksandr Feinberg. Through an analysis of selected poems, the study examines Feinberg’s use of imagery, symbolism, and poetic devices, highlighting the influence of both Uzbek and Russian literary traditions on his work. The analysis considers how Feinberg’s poetry reflects his deep connection to Uzbekistan and its people, as well as his exploration of universal themes such as love, loss, and the passage of time. Furthermore, the article discusses the potential evolution of Feinberg’s poetic style and thematic focus throughout his career, comparing his early and late works.

Keywords:  Alexander Arkadyevich Feinberg, Arkady Lvovich, Anastasia Alexandrovna, literary elements, thematic concerns, Alisher Navoi, Erkin Vakhidov, Sergei Yesenin, Usmon Nosir,  translations, Poem, simile, nature, personification, metaphor/comparison, childhood.

Although Alexander Feinberg’s mother, Anastasia Alexandrovna, was born in Moscow, and his father, Arkady Lvovich, was from Gatchina near Peter, Feinberg considered Uzbekistan his homeland. He explained his parents’ relocation from Siberia to Tashkent by stating, “I assume they moved right here to provide beginning to me.” This conviction fueled his lifelong expression of gratitude and love for Uzbekistan in his writings. His poems and literary works are replete with descriptions of Uzbekistan’s stunning landscapes, its rich national traditions, refined culture, and the spirituality of its people. Alexander’s formative years coincided with World War II; being two years old in 1941, he was deeply affected by the war’s devastating events. This impact resonates in his poetry, where one can sense the pain and hear the lament of a man in works like “1941,” “Autumn 1942,” “Tashkent,” “1943,” and “Argun.”

Alexander Feinberg, born in Tashkent in 1939, deeply identified with Uzbekistan as his homeland, even though his parents came from Russia. His prose and poetry vividly depict Uzbekistan’s landscapes, traditions, culture, and the spirit of its people. He expressed immense gratitude and love for Uzbekistan, emphasizing that his family might not have survived without the kindness of Uzbeks. His work, including “My City – Tashkent,” showcases his profound connection to the region. He wasn’t impressed with the Europe and remembered Uzbekistans problems.

Feinberg’s early life was marked by World War II, which deeply impacted him. His poems like “1941” and “Tashkent” reflect the pain and suffering of that era. He studied journalism and was a member of the Union of Writers of Uzbekistan, publishing fifteen books of poetry. He also wrote scripts for several films, including one commemorating the tragic death of the Pakhtakor football team. In addition, Alexander Feinberg translated many poems and poems by the famous Alisher Navoi and many contemporary Uzbek poets.

 Both critics and the public celebrated Feinberg’s contributions, which spanned two cultural regions. He played a key role in promoting Uzbek literature among Russian speakers through his translations. By translating influential Uzbek poets such as Alisher Navoi and Erkin Vahidov, he exposed Russian readers to the depth and beauty of Uzbek literary traditions. Meanwhile, his original poetry gained significant recognition and became an integral part of the Uzbek literary canon. Feinberg also expanded his artistic impact through his involvement in animated film and screenwriting.

Aleksandr Feinberg’s body of work showcases a progression in both style and thematic focus. Early poems may have demonstrated a keen interest in poetic form and personal reflection. Later poems, however, often incorporated philosophical musings and a stronger connection to the cultural landscape of Uzbekistan, where he lived and worked.

 It’s certainly no exaggeration to say that when remembering Aleksandr Faynberg, it’s impossible not to recall his poems infused with images of nature and the homeland, as well as his plays that expressed life’s truths. The poet’s creative legacy includes 15 poetry collections, numerous screenplays, and translations. As mentioned above, the poet, enamored with nature, wrote poems inspired by every small miracle of nature. Living in harmony with life, the poet, who could see beauty in every small detail, captivated his readers with this very quality. Speaking of small details, his poem “Page” is a clear proof of our words:

The sky protects the stars,

The deep sea protects the pearls.

A torn page from my notebook,

Protect the poems I have written.

As we dwell on the linguistic analysis of this quatrain, we witness the art of personification in the first stanza, that is, reminding that the sky protects the stars, and the deep sea protects the precious pearls in its depths, he looks at the page torn from his notebook, on which his poems are written, and asks it to protect his creative product. Here we can see not only the art of personification but also the art of comparison that comes in a hidden way. As we continue to analyze the creator’s poems, his next quatrain:

Poetry is not just to read, to understand,

Poetry is a sound resounding in the heart:

Like saving a path in the taiga,

Like reeds swaying in the lakes.

When discussing Feinberg’s poetry, it is emphasized that simply reading and understanding it is not enough; rather, the poem is essentially a voice, a sound that resonates from the heart. In the last two lines, comparison, i.e., the art of simile, is created with the help of the suffix “-dek” (meaning “like”). In the poem’s subsequent, final quatrain, we can also find the poetic arts from the previous stanzas.

 Every line is a life, every poem is a heart,

A kinship with forests, birds, and clouds.

A torn page from my notebook,

Cherishing my poems meticulously.

 We wouldn’t be wrong to say that Feinberg’s creation of a beautiful poem from such simple, small things is due to his innate talent. Feinberg, like Russian poet Sergei Yesenin and Uzbek poet Usmon Nosir, is an international poet who embodies the ability to express a world of meaning with concise words. Moreover, the beautiful features of nature in his poem “Wind” also do not leave us indifferent.

 Night. I’ll go out on the balcony for a moment.

 Spring. The wind rustles.

 It’s not my gray hair, not my face that the wind strikes,

 But my heart, my heart is struck by the wind.

 Youth and joy-happiness, with suffering-grief,

 It blows unrestrained in the seas and gardens.

The wind never ages at all,

 The wind is always young, the wind is forever young.

Feinberg is the owner of innate talent. From the first lines of the poem, we can realize that this work is a product of the creator’s old age: “It’s not my gray hair, not my face.” While gray hair alludes to old age, it also symbolizes that the lyrical hero has traveled a long distance, experienced many difficulties in life, and for this reason, the wind strikes precisely the hero’s heart. In the next stanza of this poem, a contrast arises, and also, one cannot fail to notice the skillful use of epithets from the beginning to the end of the poem.

Because Alexander Feinberg is an international poet, he tried to depict the customs, values, and character unique to both nations in his work. As mentioned above, he wielded his pen in harmony with the times. One of his great achievements is that he also ventured into the field of translation. His translations are an inseparable part of the poet’s legacy.

 Hope flickers from the depths of centuries,

 Like a wound aching in the heart—

 Somewhere there exists a shore of happiness,

 Where eternal love and peace reside.

The delicate art of comparison is subtly expressed through the flickering of hope. Like a craftsman stringing pearls, the poet carefully selects and arranges words in a way that captivates every reader of his poetry. Love, the celebration of youth, and depictions of life form the central themes of his verses.

When considering the linguistic aspects of the poet’s work, it’s clear that he effectively utilized literary devices such as contrast (opposition), comparison (simile), personification, and epithets. This is evident in almost all of his creative pieces. Living in harmony with his era, the poet vividly captured the emotions and feelings of the people of that time.

In his view, the trials and tribulations of the creative arena, though challenging, demanded perseverance as the most honorable duty for survival. The poet’s dreams have come to fruition. Today, his name and works are eagerly sought after and cherished by readers. Having captured the hearts of people of all ages, Aleksandr Feinberg’s life and work remain timeless. The inestimable value of the poet’s lyricism lies in its embellishment with the beautiful gems of poetry.

                                                         REFERENCES

   1. Alexander Fainberg ―An Attempt to Autobiography

   2. Mikhail Knizhnik ―Living Poet‖ Published in The Jerusalem Journal. Number 31, 2009

   3. Elena Atlanova:Alexander ― Feinberg’s Cage of Freedom

   4. Alexander Fitz ―About the poet Feinberg‖ Published in Khreshchatyk magazine number 4, 2005

   5. “Literature and Art of Uzbekistan” newspaper, Number 24, 2009

    6. Musurmonov R. “The Alley of Writers – the Garden of Enlightenment”. –T .: Uzbek literature and art, June 19, 2020.

    7. Alexander Feinberg. Chigir. T .: Sharq, 2007.

    8.https://uz.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aleksandr_Faynberg

    9.https://arboblar.uz/uz/people/fajnberg-aleksandr-arkadevich

   10.https://n.ziyouz.com/portal-haqida/xarita/jahon-she-riyati/rus-she-riyati/aleksandr-faynberg-1939-2009

    11.https://arm.samdchti.uz/library/book

    12. “Лист”|| А. Фейнберг— Ташкент: ООО”OPTIMAL LIGHT ” 2008-508 c.