Essay from Doniyorov Shakhzod

Young Central Asian man in a suit and red tie with short dark hair standing in front of a geometrically patterned background.

HEALTHY LIVESTOCK – A HEALTHY SOCIETY

When we talk about health today, we usually think of the human body, medicine, hospitals, and pharmaceuticals. However, the roots of public health are often overlooked. In reality, they begin on farms, pastures, livestock facilities, and in veterinary clinics. A healthy society is not defined solely by healthy people, but also by healthy animals, safe food, and responsible drug use. In this sense, the phrase “Healthy livestock – a healthy society” is not merely a slogan, but a vital reality.


Livestock farming is one of the fundamental economic and social pillars of any society. Meat, milk, eggs, and dietary products are integral components of everyday human nutrition. Yet we rarely reflect on the conditions under which these products are produced, the medications administered to animals, or the extent to which these processes are regulated. In fact, any issue related to animal health ultimately affects human health.


One of the most serious global challenges discussed in recent years is antibiotic resistance. This problem does not originate only in hospitals. On the contrary, one of its major sources is the uncontrolled and improper use of antibiotics in livestock farming. In some cases, antibiotics are administered not for therapeutic purposes, but to accelerate animal growth or as a preventive measure. As a result, bacteria adapt to these drugs, rendering commonly used antibiotics ineffective in humans. This poses a serious threat to public health.


Unfortunately, attitudes toward drug use remain problematic. Some livestock owners administer medications without consulting a veterinarian, relying on the belief that “this drug worked before.” In other cases, dosages are not followed correctly, and treatment courses are not completed. Most concerning is the failure to observe withdrawal periods before slaughter. Consequently, drug residues remain in meat and dairy products, which eventually reach the consumer’s table.


This is where the close interconnection between veterinary medicine and pharmacy becomes evident. While veterinarians are responsible for diagnosis and treatment, pharmacists ensure the quality, safety, and correct use of medicines. Without effective collaboration between these professionals, medications may cause more harm than benefit. Therefore, veterinary pharmacy is not merely a professional field, but a critical component of public safety.


Today, the market offers a wide range of veterinary medicines, but their quality varies significantly. The issue of counterfeit and substandard drugs is particularly alarming. Such products fail to treat animals effectively and may even worsen diseases. As a result, livestock mortality increases, productivity declines, and economic losses occur. More importantly, these drugs pose an indirect threat to human health. Thus, strict regulation of veterinary medicines is not only a professional responsibility, but a societal necessity.


The issue of healthy livestock is not limited to medication alone. It also encompasses proper husbandry, sanitation, disease prevention, and vaccination systems. Preventing disease has always been more effective and economical than treating it. However, in practice, preventive measures are often neglected, and problems are only addressed once diseases have progressed. This approach is neither economically viable nor beneficial for public health.


At the global level, the concept of “One Health” is becoming increasingly relevant. This approach views human, animal, and environmental health as a single interconnected system. Everything in nature is interrelated: when animals fall ill, humans are put at risk; when the environment is degraded, livestock become more vulnerable; and when medicines are misused, society suffers. Therefore, healthy livestock is not merely an agricultural issue, but a matter of national and global security.

Another crucial aspect is the training of specialists. Modern veterinary medicine and pharmacy require advanced knowledge, technology, and a strong sense of responsibility. However, the gap between theory and practice remains evident. Young professionals must be not only knowledgeable, but also ethical and conscientious. A single mistake can affect an entire chain—from livestock health to human well-being.


As a society, we must also recognize our responsibility. Chasing cheap products and choosing meat or dairy of questionable quality ultimately harms us. Where there is demand, supply follows. If consumers demand safe and high-quality products, producers will be compelled to meet these standards. This, in turn, encourages the production of healthy livestock.


In conclusion, building a healthy society requires more than doctors and pharmacies alone. The process begins on the farm, continues in veterinary clinics, and is reinforced through the pharmaceutical sector. Only when each link in this chain fulfills its role honestly and responsibly can we truly speak of a healthy society. Healthy livestock is not merely about animal welfare—it is a guarantee of the health of future generations.

Poetry from Abduqahhorova Gulhayo

Young Central Asian woman with long dark hair, a long tan dress, standing at a lectern with balloons and signs behind her.

My lord


He never stopped working for his family
He thought about the happiness of his children
He always lived happily and with a smile
My dear, gentle, kind lord

He always held my shoulder and kissed me
He always prayed for me
When I cried, he wiped my tears from my face
My lord, he also gave me joy

He never bowed his head when trouble came
He looked for an opportunity in every task
He always supported his loved ones
My dear, sweet-spoken, generous lord

Poetry from Melita Mely Ratković

Young Eastern European woman with short dark blonde hair, green eyes, and a black top.

PLAVETNILO

Iz unutrašnjosti nebeskog

Plavetnila, prosuta zvjezdana

Prašina, stapa se sa  korijenjem 

Zemljine utrobe  kosmičkim sjemenom 

Zajedno daju zemaljske plodove 

Lakoćom fluidnog kretanja neprekidno

Putuje duša, spiralnom međusvjetovnom 

Svjetlošću pamti astralna putovanja

Svjesnost poznaje tjelesni oblik, nikada 

Ne kasni, neprekidnim vraćanjem 

Svome još uvijek usnulom tijelu

Pred svitanje, ponovno se  spaja

Duh, duša sa tijelom, životni ciklus 

Zatvara krug praiskonsko modro

Sa zlatnim zracima aurore, 

Neprekidno rađanje I umiranje,

Događa se istovremeno u obje 

Realnosti, jedno bez drugog ne

Može, tako je i bit će!!!

                           

BLUE

From the interior of the celestial

Blue, spilled starry

Dust, merges with the roots 

Earth’s womb with cosmic seed 

Together they give earthly fruits 

With the ease of fluid movement continuously

The soul travels, spiraling interworld 

With light it remembers astral journeys

Consciousness knows the physical form, never 

Is not late, by continuously returning 

To its still sleeping body

Before dawn, it reunites

Spirit, soul with body, life cycle 

Closes the circle of the primordial blue

With the golden rays of the aurora, 

Continuous birth and death,

Happening simultaneously in both 

Realities, one cannot exist without the other

It can, it is and it will be!!!

Poetry from Ri Hossain

Middle aged Middle Eastern man in a gray and red and black sweater and blue jeans photographed outside on a sunny day in a lawn near some bushes with water and hills in the distance.

After All the Fairytales

After all the fairytales,
I want the language of the world to change.

Let the crow caw with the sound of good news,
Let there be well-wishes in the cat’s voice.
May the barks of dogs become melodious songs,
Let the lonely Shakil find his tribe again…

Let the pitch-black roads become
Mountain streams, flowing as waterfalls.
Let the humans turn into fish,
Or, let them fly as honeybees.
May the language of sparrows become universal,
Let flocks of parrots be seen
In the morning, noon, and evening.

Let the airplanes, like white gulls,
Build their nests on Sumatra Island.
Let there be friendship between stone and rain,
Let them promise each other—no more hailstorms.
Let butterflies see the moon in the land of ice.
From the body of the wolf or the desert bear,
Let the fragrance of heaven drift.
Let the tiger’s roar be like the hum of a bee—
Fearless, ageless, and spontaneous.

After all the fairytales…
Let the world belong to the bees or the fish alone.

Poetry from Sajid Hussain

Older Middle Eastern man, mustache and beard, black suit over a white shirt.

Ashes in the Dry Garden

The rain remembers nothing,

It weeps dust, grain by grain,

As Time buries its face in sand,

The sky, concave and breathless,

Is a priest without a sermon.

The grass prays in brittle tongues

 Beneath a ferrous sun,

Thorns rehearse old rites,

Where roots renounced the covenant of earth.

Buds dissolve in the womb of stillborn hours.

The path no longer pretends,

A threshold breathes but has no door,

A window mourns, clothed in the linen of neglect,

Shadows press their faces to the glass,

And broken panes echo footsteps never returned.

Leaves fall like confessions,

Not from boughs, but from clocks,

Whose hands no longer grasp meaning,

Rust speaks the liturgy of loss,

Iron forgets its shape,

And corrosion writes the gospel of forgetting.

Smoke, the incense of wasted time,

Rises from hours sacrificed to absence,

Walls whisper in crumbling syllables,

Not shattered by war,

But worn by the sighs of the unseen.

Among the ash:

A mother’s breath embalmed in plaster,

A child’s gaze fossilized in soot,

An old man’s dream folded,

In the envelope of an oxidized memory.

And the silence,

The silence chants,

I am the shape of what was thought,

The breath between two centuries,

The echo of a name unspoken.

When All Remains But Thee

The lamps still burn with contemplative fire,

Their golden tongues untouched by grief or pyre,

The meadows don their emerald attire,

Yet none lament, none long, none tire.

The birds unfold their morning psalm with grace,

Their wings inscribe soft hymns across the space,

The bells still toll where sacred echoes fall,

Yet none recall thy voice, none heed thy call.

The paths remain where once our steps were laid,

But Time has brushed thy footprints into shade,

The leaves lift birds to sky’s cathedral 

dome,

While travelers pass as though they’re heading home.

O Memory! close thy weeping, sleepless eyes,

Unclench thy hand from what beneath it lies,

Let Past recede into the breathless hush,

Its mournful dirge now but a dying hush.

For all remains unchanged, complete in tune,

The morning glows, the breeze retains its rune,

But thou, O friend art not in any place,

Not in the sun, the wind, the stars, or space.

In The Shade Of Seeking 

In blissful torment I sought smiling tears,

Seeking sorrow’s shade in sunshine’s shimmer,

Dark veils of anguish dimmed each golden dawn,

My eyes hunted shade in the arms of radiance,

An eternity dissolved under one teardrop’s weight,

O Pain, thou cruel artist, you inked my time,

A quiet absence visits my inward skies,

Loud silence nests in the heart’s vacant throne,

And chases shadows across the desert of longing,

In endless alleys, I seek echoes of essence,

The path is a relic of a vanished presence,

The dust knows my quest better than my lips,

I seek the trace ‘I seek the trace,

And I walk, and I yearn, and I call,

O nameless echo, art thou memory or prophecy?

Who moans in the dome of my soul’s roam?

In the Veins of Mist

Beyond the veil were dust and mist alone,

A traveller was I, yet journey there was none,

The tale once bound by threads was bore of grief,

Though paths bended beneath celestial turns.

I walked through clocks that melted into breath,

Where roads were stitched from shadows of desire,

Each turn revealed a mirror with no face,

Each milestone sang but vanished into fire.

Ideas rained like feathers made of glass,

Breaking soundlessly on the floor of thought,

I sought the ones who dwelled behind my eyes,

But found them drowning in a glass of haze.

No sorrow wept beneath the laughing moon,

I moved, yet floated in a static sea,

Time wore a cloak of whispering spectral wings,

And space knelt quiet at memory ‘s rusted gate.

The spring I chased turned into mirrored smoke,

And kissed the void with incandescent flames.

My river slept inside a cave of wind,

No wave disturbs the mirror of my stream.

No voice, no flame, no herald of the dream,

No beacon flares, no shore, no destiny,

No wave stirs forth within my silent sea,

In endless pursuit my compass turned to mist.

In the orbit of seeking lost my compass,

Diverts in the agony of smouldering path,

Each step dissolves into a vow forsaken,

And vanishes beneath eternity’s breathless veil.

A Vigilant Soul Awaits

A solemn vigil stirs the soul’s deep core,

Veiled fire beneath humanity longs to roar,

An ancient cry breathes through the folds of thought,

Time’s hush prepares the truth ,the seers sought.

The soul desires clouds ablaze with peace,

Tranquility draped in celestial, silent release,

Is a sacred phrase to light the mind’s domain!

And whisper grace through reason’s rich refrain.

For centuries I’ve thirsted for one stream,

A draught to heal the wounds of dream,

A pilgrim bearing thought’s illumined flame,

I name the stars yet shun all fame.

Let peace arise on wisdom’s tempered wing,

Let every soul in silent union sing,

Let truth be refuge for the bruised and torn,

And tyranny die where light is born.

A day shall come when division’s veil shall fall,

One voice shall echo in the hearts of all,

Those drunk on power shall at last descend,

Marked by the time their might cannot defend.

Poetry from Nurbek Norchayev, translated to English from Uzbek by Nodira Ibrahimova

We are a single leaf

standing on the Tree of Life.

Bound to the body by the heart’s emotions,

so long as breath remains

we are praying.

From the fairy tales of youth’s spring,

at times we long to whisper

into the ear of a blossom.

Yet our hidden secrets

we tell to You alone

You who can listen to everyone

at the same moment.

You are Almighty, O God!

You bestowed valleys upon the deer,

wide tablecloths spread for them.

To what fate did You inscribe

eternal destiny, my Lord,

Like inscriptions carved in rock and stone?!

The author of the poem is the poet Nurbek Norchayev, from Kason District, Kashkadarya Region, Republic of Uzbekistan.

Translator Nodira Ibrahimova is a laureate of the international award named after Muhammad Reza Ogahi.

Poetry from g emil reutter

Here We Are in the Mid 2020s

                  Drop, bounce, roll, sleet against

window payne onto ledge

                   glaze covered cement walkway

naked, cold, lifeless 

                   in the creek bed, lights of the night sky

waver… dim… dark clouds roll above  

              large mounds of frozen dirt cover 

the terrain where once a forest 

                           stood

 now awaiting manmade woods of aluminum 

                         processed wood

In the distance a gilded age

                mansion stares down upon it all

as it once did onto the shacks in

                          the woods. 

Down in the swamp where a city rose from the muck and slime

winter’s freeze preserves the musky filthy odor, embeds itself

in the people who populate the large classical buildings that

sit atop.

Their hearts beat slower, body temperature lowers

as the rich get richer, poor get poorer, health care

abandoned and middle class dropping like sleet from

a winter storm. 

                                                               Downpours defrost the first layer of soil

                                                               dirty winter ice is washed away, crocus peaks

                                                               out to say hello. 

A

L

O

N

G

   The river, by sluices of canal, rapids of river,

meanders, then the rise of stone/rock as river

cuts through gorge, then lowhead dam. 

Thump… thump… thump of the cans

Revving… revving of the engine. Start – stop. 

One house to the next, pick em up throw in back

Toss onto the sidewalk. Miles upon miles of walking…

Hands calloused… bones ache… cold or hot

They are out there… snow or rain…. they are out there

Making just above a livable wage and the mayor says…

You make enough…maybe a few cents more. 

M

A

N

Y

Work two jobs to earn what one should pay,

Taking bus to bus to job to job at the chain pharmacy

First then the chain department store second 

16 hours a day to support a family, pay health care

Hear the king of the golden age that

Doesn’t exist except for the rich

Buy one doll, one coat you don’t need

Anymore than that…. Eats cake while

Others pull meals out of a can. 

We are here in the mid-2020s and it is cold and barren

ICE and Border Patrol run the country side abusing 

Migrants, abusing citizens in the name of the abuser in

Chief. A little man who chants

 gimme… gimme… gimme more.

It plays out… always attack the weak

your own people, another country 

surround yourself in gilded gold 

mock predecessors for your ego 

and of course, name buildings after 

yourself…. Never before done while in office. 

Cold…Cold…Callous…Cold 

Lawless

Without proper notice to the folks on Capitol Hill

                     BOMBS DROPED ON SOVERIGN NATION

Maduro kidnapped, removed from county.

                      OIL, OIL, OIL, OIL

Non warrior yells after the attack

S

Y

N

OPHANTS 

                  Praise him, how tough he is, actually say

He will dictate next move…………………

                     Juan Orlando Hernández

                        Juan Orlando Hernández

Pardoned just a month before

                    45 years sentence wiped out

                     45 tons of cocaine in the United States

Who is fooling who? 

Lawless

g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. He can be found at: https://gereutter.wordpress.com/about/