Poetry from Ilhomova Mohichehra

Central Asian teen girl leaning to the right, with long dark hair and brown eyes and a ruffly black blouse.
Uzbekistan

My country is always
My dear Uzbekistan.
This girl is rich in beauty,
Narcissus in my garden.

The so-called Uzbekistan
I was born in a beautiful place.
By and by
I pulled out the rock.

Have fun these days,
Flowers open every day.
Birds flying far away,
Happy girls.

Play and laugh at home
Sneak away.
Push your period,
You build the future.

The country is burning for you,
Both parents.
always burning for you
Sweating and burning.

For the value of such a country,
Enough dear friends.
Such a country from the world,
You will never find.

Ilhomova Mohichehra is a student of the 8th grade of the 9th general secondary school of Zarafshan city, Navoi region.

Essay from Ruxshona Qiyomova

A skilled pedagogue and his image

Among all professions, the teaching profession has a special and important social importance. After all, the teacher is the architect of the maturity of the heart of the young generation, the person who educates and educates the youth. Today, he teaches the youth the laws of society, social life, and the development of thinking, prepares the youth for work, and helps them master the secrets of the profession. they say. This responsibility requires the teacher to be a master of his profession. A skilled pedagogue is a highly cultured specialist who is a skilled master of his profession, has a deep knowledge of his subject, and has mastered the methodology of education and training.

Pedagogical skills teach teachers pedagogical creativity, pedagogical technique, speech culture, thinking, organization and implementation of educational work of the pedagogue. It provides information about the system of pedagogical activities that develop their profession. In order for the pedagogical activities of teachers to be effective the system of necessary skills: knowledge, ability to understand the child, observation, speech skills, organization, ability to see the future, ability to divide attention, correctly assess the situation, handle all kinds of conflicts that may arise timely elimination, making students interested in learning.

A teacher who does not understand the essence of the pedagogical process and does not respect the child will not have an opinion that ensures the effectiveness of education and human maturity. Pedagogical skill – “Teachers’ qualities such as childishness, humanity, kindness and knowledge, ingenuity, creativity, ability is a defining characteristic, and it is an activity that provides teachers with the opportunity to reach a high level in their educational activities and to constantly improve their professional skills. He is perfect in his subject who knows, has pedagogical and methodical training,

It is manifested in the professional activity of every teacher who conducts practical activities in order to find ways to teach, educate and develop students.

During the formation of the teaching profession, it is pedagogical skills improve. He conducts educational activities with students with various psychological characteristics. Faces various conflicts. This, in turn, forces him to constantly create, to find and skillfully apply various means and methods of education. Thus, to become the owner of pedagogical skills, the teacher is himself he should know the educational subject based on the requirements of the time, have pedagogical and psychological knowledge, and should have humanity, curiosity and self-sacrifice.

Essay from Sarvinoz Mansurova

I became the pride of my parents Mansurova Sarvinoz Khasan Student of Bukhara State Medical Institute I am the daughter of Sarvinoz Khassan, currently a 3rd-year student of the medical department of the Bukhara Contemporary Medical Institute.

I am the winner of the “Student of the Year” award. I am a participant in international conferences. I am the founder and head of “Noza Academy”, which was established for the purpose of ensuring employment and personal development of women and girls. The main basis of these achievements are the trust and hard work of my parents. “responsibility and pride.

From my father, I learned not to give up on dreams, to always move forward and to lead. From my mother, I learned to speak correctly, to study tirelessly, and to be responsible. I studied at a medical institute since I was a child. I dreamed of becoming a doctor.

Poetry from Farida Botayeva

Middle aged light skinned Central Asian woman with shoulder length hair and earrings wearing a pink floral blouse and holding a book.

YESTERDAY WAS SO…

I was very happy yesterday

What happened to me today?

Yesterday my hair was a river,

And today, a knot like a heart?!

Yesterday was the sky, the sky

Today it is raining and cloudy.

Yesterday was a lifetime, a lifetime

Forget today like a dream.

Yesterday was full of heart,

Today it suddenly became a mess.

But a word became a sword,

There is no place to live, no shelter.

Yesterday I was alive too,

Today, it’s a stone.

I was a man, I was a man

I got sunburned today!

O friend!

No matter what you say, it’s today

Do not leave a knot in your heart.

The dream is long, the regret is long,

Can tomorrow find today?

Hey man!

Don’t hide what you say,

Say I love you, beg nolan.

Hearts are full of love,

Can tomorrow find today?

It’s beautiful when a flower blooms next to me,

I will put your eyes on my eyes.

If you don’t come, I’ll go myself

Can tomorrow find today?

Come, come with your mountain on your shoulders,

Come with your Khazonrez garden.

Come with sadness in your heart,

Can tomorrow find today?

Dear man, make your day strong,

A handful for every moment.

Live today, find strength,

Can tomorrow find today?

Farida Afroz (Farida Botayeva) was born on March 5, 1956 in the city of Kokan, Fergana region. She studied at the Kokan State Pedagogical Institute named after Muqimi. She is a member of the Writers’ Union of Uzbekistan, a deputy of the Legislative Chamber of the Oliy Majlis of the Republic of Uzbekistan.

Poetry from Ziyoda Murodilova


          Fate

No matter how much suffering hurts my tongue,
I will go on my way.
Sometimes falling, sometimes standing
Trials lead to dreams.

If not for God,
The wind doesn't blow, it doesn't pour high
I fall for a reason too
This fall will not last forever.

The stars count the days in the distance,
The sun always shines its golden light.
If only I had wings to fly
I would reach the heavens.



   Just that

A beautiful breeze works every moment
My dreams are with me
It's like a long time ago
I just learned to live.

When I am in pain, my heart feels my pain.
Every breath I take is visible to my body
Obedience all my life
Just stop for a moment.

My imagination is sad and gently stirs
The sweet door of my heart
It is as if he has entered a mysterious world
I just live in a secret age.

A butterfly will land on my hand
And my emotions are like an unstable wind
My tender words from the heart
It's just a piece of paper.


Ziyoda Murodilova, daughter of Zufarjon, was born on October 15, 2007 in the city of Fergana in the Republic of Uzbekistan. She wants to use her creative abilities to read, write and help people any way possible. 

Poetry from Dildora Toshtemirova

Autumn

It’s autumn again,

The leaves have fallen.

It’s good that you remembered

I remembered those days.

I was happy,

In those past days.

We used to walk together

On rainy roads.

We dreamed together

But when it’s a dream.

I endured like the wind,

I’m sorry you left.

Every time it rains,

I walk by myself.

Goodbye dreams

I will stay like a cloud.

Toshtemirova Dildora Hakim qizi was born on October 9, 2008 in Khatirchi District, Navoi Region. I am 16 years old now.

Due to my interests and constant support from my parents, today I am a member of All India Council for Technical Skill Development. I won the “Volunteer of the Year” 2022, “Star of the Year” nominations from the school. In addition, Dildora’s creative works have been published in international magazines, and her articles and poems have been indexed in Google.

Poetry from Sayani Mukherjee

Remember

I remember the brightest star

Seeking a symphony of

Cacophonous smile

A birdwatcher’s view

Melting into red blue

Nothingness

A sweet tooth for all seasons

I pine for the sweet magnolias

The cricket’s happening stance

Of welcoming smiles

Magnitude of oceans

Rising into my palms

The oak trees follow their path

A napping squeeze

Of Rosemary and thyme

I remember that oceanic haze

A bright blue morning

Of heaven seeking

Wrapped around my children’s

Little finger