1. Dear poet! Please tell us about your childhood.

I was born on July 19, 1960, in Baku, the capital of Soviet Azerbaijan, to a Turkic family of an Azerbaijani father and a Tatar mother. Russian was spoken because it was the lingua franca of the USSR. I spent part of my childhood in the Penza region with my grandparents, who had moved there from the siege of St. Petersburg during World War II. Many of my mother’s relatives died of starvation during the Nazi siege of that city. Among her relatives were renowned musicians of international renown, such as Ravil Martynov, founder and chief conductor of the St. Petersburg State Symphony Orchestra. My father’s mother, my grandmother, Mrs. Sarfinaz, was descended from a Khan clan.  Her father, Khan Tagi, had several sons, but after the rise of Soviet power, they were executed. My grandmother survived only because she was married by then, bore her husband’s surname, and lived elsewhere. My father, Alikhas, was a staunch communist and a power engineer by training.

What inspired you to become a writer?

The May Day demonstration of 1968. My father took me to a large seaside square. It was spring, with a bright blue sky and an orchestra playing festive marches. This festive atmosphere inspired my first poems.

2. Who is responsible for a child’s future: parents or the environment?

The child’s parents, the environment, their personal talents, and their unique destiny. I was 15 years old when a stray shot from a neighbor’s gun nearly killed me. I survived and became a poet.

I also graduated from the oldest mining university in Europe, the Saint Petersburg Mining University (founded in 1773), and became a mining engineer and surveyor (a navigator of underground and surface geodetic work). I worked in this specialty in the Caucasus Mountains, the Siberian taiga, and the Arctic tundra of the Far North. I became an explorer, a member of the Russian National Geographical Society (founded in 1845), and the author of fiction and scientific books in seven languages, published in Azerbaijan, Canada, China, Egypt, India, Mexico, Russia, Serbia, Turkey, and the United States.

3. Wars are everywhere on our planet. Do you think we live in a favorable environment? 

What should we teach future generations?

I don’t think we live in a favorable environment, but the fact that we’re still alive is a great blessing. Future generations must learn to live in mutual understanding and love; humanity has no other path.

4. Share your opinion on literature.

World literature is as diverse as the peoples inhabiting the planet.

Nevertheless, it is possible to find common ground with all competent writers, because the universal spiritual and cultural values ​​of all peoples are the same.

About e-books.

E-books have a right to exist as a source of knowledge and cultural values ​​alongside paper books. The main thing is that people love to read.

5. What is your opinion of the new generation?

Do we have new talents?

Of course we do. I am the father of four children: two sons and two daughters. They are all talented in various ways.  I am convinced that all children are talented, and it is the job of parents and teachers to help them discover their talents.

6. Many poets and writers use AI to write poems and even books.

What is your opinion on this?

I am certain that AI was created to help people, but not to replace their creativity with electronic software. A program can simulate human emotions, but it cannot truly sense them.

7. What are your plans for the future?

I am the author of 108 books of poetry and prose for adults and children, and I plan to continue my creative work.  

8. A quote from your book that would inspire a young reader to read your book.

“To fly, you need wings. If you’re a poet, you’ll definitely fly.”

The Ticking of Death

Tomorrow you will not be the one

who bestrode the world like a Colossus,

the predator you thought yourself to be

in a world once yours,

becomes merely a deferred biological feast,

in a plot of land measured to your body.

The dust will show no favour,

whether you were an emperor,

or a mere non-entity,

rather, to it you shall return, return—

just as you were first molded.

Your grandeur is spurious… ephemeral,

your self-idol, sanctified by your vain desires,

will crumble before the might of your last agony,

You will see the sun of your lungs sink into dusk,

To firmly believe your hubris will rise no more;

the terminal bubris—a solemn funeral…

so solemn, had been a masterful hypocrite,

but if your folly was too crude for such art,

you will be consigned to the grave in haste

In both cases, you are a tasteless joke

that dust narrates to itself

within a fresh grave.

Parade your shadow no longer;

one day, you’ll heed death’s steady tick,

as it unfastens the buttons of your fleshy shirt

to liberate the soul from your world’s cage—

the very world by which you were beguiled.

Then you’ll be rammed into a narrowed grave,

taught by the clay how you must bow,

so think not so, O Man

that marble will immortalize your name,

or the gold you hoarded will bring you grace

Far-fetched…

Neither shall you be immortalized,

nor the hubris you raised

with untruth endures.

Mustafa Abdulmalek Al-Sumaidi| Yemen

Beneath Invisible Boundaries

(A perspective of a Vietnamese economics student living and working in Germany)

Aschaffenburg, 03.04.26

I stand amid Europe’s winds and shifting lights,

where global headlines rise with every dawn,

and words of conflict, energy, and power

become the rhythm of an ordinary life I read each day.

Far from my homeland,

I hear voices echo through halls of authority,

speaking of security, nuclear thresholds,

and limits that must not be crossed

in a world defined by uncertainty.

I study economics,

and so I have learned to see invisible currents:

oil flowing through narrow straits,

capital moving across markets,

and expectations, trust, and belief

rising and falling like ever-moving curves.

The Strait of Hormuz is not merely a point on a map,

but a critical node in the global economy,

where even the smallest disruption can spread outward

into prices, inflation, and the lives of those

who have never set foot upon its shores.

I begin to realize

that within the great decisions of politics

there is always the presence of economics,

and within numbers that seem cold and abstract

lie the livelihoods of millions of families.

Between calls for sovereignty and alliance,

between confrontation and negotiation,

the world operates as an intricate web,

where no nation truly stands apart

from the influence of the rest.

Living in Germany,

I see this interdependence not as theory,

but in every energy bill I receive,

in prices, in the steady rhythm of a life

that seems distant from the idea of conflict.

And sometimes,

amid reports of war and macroeconomic analysis,

I find myself asking:

what does economic development truly mean

if it does not move alongside peace and stability?

The world continues to move forward,

through decisions shaped by risk and restraint,

and we — though separated by distance —

remain part of the same system,

where every shift in one corner of the world

can quietly reach into the lives of others

in its own unseen way.

Author: Lan Anh – Aschaffenburg, Germany

The Owl

                                             Between the intermission of sunlight and shadow is the eccentric owl,
              A paradoxical symbol perched on its prairie horse at the mythological rodeo,
                        Adorned with a grim grimace and stoic gaze,
                                     Embracing and embodying wisdom,  knowledge and intellectuality conceived and perceived as 

                                   teachers or seers, per nocturnal personality,
                       Especially due to their supernatural reportage with Greek goddess Athena, in Greek Mythology Athena, the Goddess of

                                                    Wisdom, was embodied by an owl, 

                              said to have sat on her blind side to help her see the truth better, underworld harbinger of medieval spirit literature,
 they are also embodiments of death,  darkness, mystery, and
Tragedy frequently showcased in Shakespeare’s literature, notably Julius Caesar,  

                                             as omens of death or calamity,
possessing dualistic qualities of wisdom and warning hence be weary of their company that 

                                                        proffer a complex tapestry of celebratory elasticity and foreboding fraternity…
They can also be romantic allusions symbolizing solitude and introspection much like  pensive poetic bards

                                                 conjuring up missiled missives as lymphatic literary marmalades…  

Jacques Fleury is a Boston Globe featured Haitian American Poet, Educator, Author of four books and literary arts student at Harvard University online. His latest publication “You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self” & other titles are available at all Boston Public Libraries, the University of Massachusetts Healey Library, University of Wyoming, Askews and Holts Library Services in the United Kingdom, The Harvard Book Store, The Grolier Poetry Bookshop, Amazon etc… He has been published in prestigious publications such as Spirit of Change Magazine, Wilderness House Literary Review, Muddy River Poetry Review, Litterateur Redefining World anthologies out of India, Poets Reading the News, the Cornell University Press anthology Class Lives: Stories from Our Economic Divide, Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene among others…Visit him at:  http://www.authorsden.com/jacquesfleury.–

How Wonderful The Gift Of Life Seems 

Can you speak or write in the absolute now, or is the now gone in the time it takes for the now to hit your senses and wind its way up our nerves into our brains and then for us to speak or write it on a page?      

Can we overlook the micro-moments between perception and recording on the brain or on paper?     

In this near to now my dog licks his black paw stretched out on the bed. The light streams in a side window into this darkened room onto this notebook page and a dove outside calls. Those nearly nows are receding as my pen moves on the page trying to pin them down.     

The dove still calls. The air filter hums almost silently in this allergy season.     

Now there’s the sound of a page turning as I write more in the nearly now. It is close to quiet in this nearly now. A top drawer in this old brown wooden desk is half open. There is a humming in my ears. I have a taste of tinnitus.      

Here the nearly now is mostly still. Some might call it boring. So busy am I in recording that my thoughts are rare. My body feels a little tired. My sad bad knees are both aching. Should I be sorry this nearly now is not more dramatic?      

Put down your cell phones, kids, and enjoy the silence. Learn to muse and think on your own.    No bombs are falling outside but I know they are falling elsewhere. I hear the quite whir of a plane overheard. Rain is falling, a slow rain outside that my dog and I don’t hear, or maybe Coco dog hears.      

It’s been peaceful to settle into this nearly now. I am content, and now I am thinking in this nearly now, of a thought I had yesterday.     

Is that cheating?     

Is that thought as much of the now as the tinnitus in my ears? You may disagree if you are here with me in the nearly now at a later date.     

Yesterday’s thought is about the story of life’s beginning. I learned in school that life began with the mixing of chemicals in a warm body of water. The constant stirring in currents of the chemicals finally led to life. Perhaps it was a virus kind of life since a virus sits on the edge of life and nonlife.     

 But what if life bloomed in more than one place, here on this planet or elsewhere? What if life had multiple origins? Maybe there are aliens out there and distant planets we cannot travel to in multiple lifetimes. I am thinking of this in the nearly now. Any memory pulled from the past as thought is now in the nearly now.      

And when I am thinking in the nearly now, am I not also thinking a bit in the future in a yearning for the future?     

I’m thinking I may publish this rambling on the nearly now in the future. It is the possibility of sharing my thoughts with others that leads me to write them down. Nearly now thoughts of the future are pulling me forward.    

So perhaps no divides exist between the past, the nearly now, and the future. Time, as the old metaphor said, is a flowing river and cannot be divided.     

My hope is that some souls in the future will read this and the ideas will live again rolling through their nearly nows, and I will kind of live again.    

 It has stopped raining. My spouse is starting to move about, getting ready to check on the backyard garden. I give my love a quick kiss as she heads out the back door. I may feel differently tomorrow—what with the terrible calls coming out of the wider world—but how wonderful the gift of life seems in this nearly now. 

Identifying Restricted Vocabulary in Literary Works

Author: Usmonaliyeva Bahora Abduvali qizi

Affiliation: Uzbekistan State World Languages University

Email: usmonaliyevabahora@gmail.com

Abstract

This article analyzes restricted lexical units utilized in literary texts, specifically focusing on the linguistic and stylistic properties of dialectisms, phraseological units, and idiosyncratic authorial expressions. The research explores the formation of phraseological units, their variation processes, and their functional roles within artistic discourse. Furthermore, through the analysis of works by Abdulla Qahhor and Tog‘ay Murod, the study demonstrates the significance of idioms in character development, psychological portrayal, and the enhancement of aesthetic impact. The findings provide valuable theoretical and practical insights into the study of literary linguistics.  

Keywords: literary work, restricted vocabulary, phraseological unit, dialectism, literary text, stylistic features, lexical layer, imagery, individual style, language and society.

INTRODUCTION

Literature serves as a complex system reflecting human psychology, societal life, and an author’s aesthetic vision through linguistic means. Within this system, the lexical layer holds a distinct position, serving as a vital tool for unfolding content, animating characters, and intensifying artistic resonance. In particular, restricted vocabulary—comprising dialectisms, professionalisms, phraseological units, and socio-lectal markers—plays a crucial role in shaping an author’s individual style and realistically depicting the portrayed environment.  

The study of the functional characteristics of lexical units in literary texts remains a prominent issue in modern linguistics. The purposeful use of diverse linguistic layers not only elevates aesthetic value but also provides a clearer illumination of a character’s social background, worldview, and emotional state. Consequently, analyzing restricted vocabulary in literary contexts is of significant scientific importance in revealing the profound link between language and society. This article examines the application, types, and artistic functions of lexical layers, specifically restricted vocabulary, supported by evidence from selected literary works.  

Historical Context and Terminological Foundations of Turkic Phraseology

While phraseology as an independent branch of Turkic linguistics emerged relatively late, its scholarly roots trace back to the early 20th century. Initially, various terms were employed in place of “phraseology,” a process influenced by the linguistic traditions of that era.  In early 20th-century grammatical works, the term “phrase” was often used to denote a sentence or clause, differing from its modern sense—a phenomenon attributed to the influence of Russian grammar.

Azerbaijani linguists B. Cho‘ponzoda and F. Og‘azoda, in their work Grammar of the Turkic Language, introduced significant terminological innovations. Alongside “Semasiology” and “Stylistics,” they utilized the term “Idiomatism,” citing Turkic expressions such as boshga solmoq (to explain/instill) and ko‘z ko‘rmoq (to witness) as primary examples.  Systematic research into Turkic phraseology gained momentum in the 1940s and 50s. Prominent scholars S.K. Kenesboyev and Sh.U. Rahmatullayev are recognized as the founders of this field, having classified Turkic idioms and established the discipline’s theoretical framework.  

Methodology

To determine the linguistic and stylistic features of phraseological units, the following scientific methods were employed:

Descriptive Method: Used to characterize the relationship between form and meaning, structural composition, and the position of idioms within literary norms. This method was particularly instrumental in detailing the variation processes of numerical components in idioms.  

Comparative-Typological Analysis: Applied to identify commonalities and differences in phraseology between the Uzbek and Karakalpak languages. For instance, the equivalent forms of the idiom ko‘zi ilindi (to doze off) were examined through this lens.

  Contextual Analysis: This served as the primary method for identifying the function of idioms within the works of Abdulla Qahhor and Tog‘ay Murod. Beyond literal meanings, the analysis focused on the specific emotional-expressive nuances (e.g., irony, sarcasm, or affection) these units acquired within the text.  

Linguostatistical Method: Employed to validate the artistic impact of repetitions in Tog‘ay Murod’s style. For example, the repetition of the phrase mo‘min-mazlum (pious-oppressed) six times within a 33-word segment was analyzed statistically.  

Literary Analysis I: Abdulla Qahhor’s Phraseological InnovationThe artistic mastery of Abdulla Qahhor is evident in his ability to create new, individualized idioms based on general phraseology. Qahhor crafts expressions so profound and ironically sharp that they often attain the status of folk aphorisms, making it difficult to distinguish his original creations from traditional idioms.  

Every phraseological unit is rooted in a specific image or action. Qahhor leverages these foundational images to develop phraseological neologisms. For example, in the idiom og‘zi qulog‘iga yetdi (his mouth reached his ears), the physical imagery of a wide smile is used to convey intense joy.

Furthermore, he adapts metaphorical proverbs, reinterpreting existing imagery to instill them with unique semantic and stylistic functions.

  Literary Analysis II: Variation and Structural RelationsAlthough phraseological units are stable, they undergo transformations in speech, leading to new variants. Substituting numerical components often intensifies the descriptive coloring without altering the core meaning.  For instance, the common idiom biri ikki bo‘ldi (doubling one’s wealth) appears as biri besh bo‘ldi (increasing fivefold) in Cho‘lpon’s novel Kecha va kunduz to exaggerate the accumulation of wealth. Similarly, numerical variations in expressions like obro‘yi bir pul bo‘ldi (his reputation became worth one cent) versus uch pul (three cents) remain semantically equivalent, both denoting a total loss of dignity.  

Literary Analysis III: Tog‘ay Murod’s Folk Mastery

Tog‘ay Murod’s novel Otamdan qolgan dalalar (Fields Left by My Father) is distinguished by its natural, folk-oriented language. The author skillfully employs idioms to reveal character traits and thematic depth, stating that he intended the work to be a linguistic monument to the spiritual identity of the Uzbek people.  Murod utilizes the Surkhandarya dialect and colloquialisms to maintain authenticity. This is seen in the character Dehqonqul, whose simple nature is mirrored in the language used by his mother; instead of harsh rebukes, she uses affectionate scolding like “Oshingni yeyin sen tentakni”. 

Repetition is another hallmark of Murod’s style, used to heighten emotional resonance. Statistical analysis shows that in one 33-word passage, the descriptor mo‘min-mazlum is repeated six times to emphasize the character’s plight. 

Conclusion

Phraseological units manifest both as common linguistic units and as restricted vocabulary bound by dialect or individual authorial style. In the works of Qahhor and Murod, these units serve as essential tools for psychological depth and vivid imagery. Ultimately, the strategic use of restricted lexis enriches the linguistic map of literature.                                                

 References

1.Rahmatullayev, Sh. (1992). Phraseological Dictionary of the Uzbek Language. Tashkent: Qomuslar.  2.Kenesbayev, S.K. (1977). Phraseological Dictionary of the Kazakh Language. Almaty: Gilim.  3.Cho‘ponzoda, B., & Og‘azoda, F. (1924). Grammar of the Turkic Language. Baku.  4.O‘rozov, A.T. (2009). On the linguistic features of Tog‘ay Murod’s “Fields Left by My Father.” Language and Literature Education Journal, (5), 45-47.  5.Sadullayeva, D. Phraseological neologisms in A. Qahhor’s works and their semantic-stylistic functions.  6.Qahhor, A. (1987-1989). Selected Works. Tashkent: G‘afur G‘ulom.  7.Murod, T. (1994). Fields Left by My Father (Novel). Tashkent: Sharq.  8.Cho‘lpon. (2014). Night and Day (Novel). Tashkent: Yangi asr avlodi.  9.Ziyonet Educational Portal: https://api.ziyonet.uz/uploads/books/47828

A Mother’s Prayer

For the sleepless nights I’ve lived through,

For the restless days I’ve carried through,

For the words I held back, unspoken and true,

Oh my God, let my child not suffer pain,

Grant healing too — for everything, my thanks remain.

I endure… I have always endured, it’s true,

Don’t frighten me — I might grow weak too,

Patience isn’t enough for all three at once, it’s true,

Oh my God, let my child not suffer pain,

I became a good mother — for that, I thank You again.

When I care for one, another begins to cry,

As I soothe this one, the other stands nearby,

I’m tired, so tired — that’s the honest truth I can’t deny,

Oh my God, give me strength, give me patience to hold,

And thanks to my mother, who bore me so strong and bold.

Gulchiroy Axmedova (born August 8, 1996) is a second-year student at Kokand State University, majoring in Primary and Technological Education.