MY UNIVERSITY

There are moments in life that become turning points — moments that change not only our path but our entire destiny. For me, one of those moments was my decision to study at the Uzbek State University of World Languages. This choice was not just about education; it was the beginning of a journey that would define my dreams, values, and future mission.

I have always been fascinated by the world of languages. As a child, I tried to understand foreign songs and dreamed of watching movies without subtitles. For me, language is not only a tool for communication but also a bridge that connects different cultures, minds, and hearts. That is why I decided to dedicate my life to learning languages and teaching them to others.

The Uzbek State University of World Languages is not just a university — it is a place where dreams come true. Here, science and culture meet, new ideas are born, and every student discovers their inner strength. What attracted me most was that the education here is not limited to theory; it is connected with real-life practice and the modern world.

At this university, I am learning not only German but also humanity, discipline, and teamwork. Every lesson, every text opens a new world for me. Our teachers inspire us not only to learn but also to dream, to believe, and to act. Every day I feel proud to be a student here.

Studying here has changed the way I see life. I no longer see language learning as only grammar or vocabulary memorization. Language is a philosophy of life — the most powerful bridge that connects humans to the world. Through language, we don’t just speak; we think, feel, and create.

My greatest goal is to become a skilled linguist, translator, or teacher. I want young people in Uzbekistan to achieve their dreams through learning foreign languages — to explore the world and to make our nation’s voice heard globally. Because every young Uzbek has great potential within; all they need is faith and hard work.

The Uzbek State University of World Languages has given me more than knowledge — it has given me confidence. This confidence reminds me that I, too, can move forward toward my dreams. Every lesson, every challenge, every small victory is shaping me into a stronger and wiser person.

In the future, I will proudly mention this university’s name, because it showed me the way, gave me wings, and opened the door to the world. I know the road ahead will not be easy, but every step brings me closer to my dream. Because this is not just a university — it is a school of life.

Qurbonova Gulsanam Ilhom qizi was born on April 16, 2006, in Dehqonobod district of Kashkadarya region. She is currently a 2nd-year student at the Faculty of Romance and Germanic Philology, majoring in German Philology at the Uzbek State University of World Languages. She has achieved remarkable success in various fields, including sports, education, and art.

“Every school is a foundation of the future”. Fifth Secondary School, located in  Andijan region Kurgantepa district, Khujatepa, is a good example of a foundation.

It was created in 1991. As time goes it is shaping knowledge capacity as well as soft skills and triggers new generations to step forward with great faith. Head teacher Ruzikhon Usmonokhunova’s devoted hard work  and the collaboration of school team enhance its success in making opportunities for students.

Improving students’ intellectual capability is a priority. Students take part in annual Subject Olympiads and get good results for the region. Taking into account the quality of education, the school also attaches great importance to physical education and sports. Sport days are held regularly, and various competitions are organized among students. Each student wears a sports uniform and actively participates in competitions. This forms a healthy spirit of movement, team spirit and the desire for victory in students.

Fifth state Specialized Secondary School does not give up its leadership in the implementation of innovative ideas and life. It is noteworthy that a system of self-government for all students has been established. A clear proof of this is the election process among students. The most active and talented students are selected and, using their own schools, ideas and votes, elect a school president. The president of the school and his or her team improve school life, creating a comfortable and productive environment for students. This system serves to improve responsibility, initiative and leadership qualities in students.

The school’s main focus is on two subjects; physics and mathematics, which allows students to gain knowledge at a high level. Students actively participate in various Science Olympiads, intellectual games and many programs, consolidating their knowledge.  This paves the way for creating a more comfortable and advanced educational environment for students. The new school building is equipped with modern technologies, opening up even wider opportunities for students to learn. Today, this school has become a center of science, sports and innovative ideas. The unity of teachers and students, selfless work and wise management of the leadership are taking the school to greater heights. We believe that every student who graduates from this school will grow up to be not only educated, but also spiritual, patriotic and a well-rounded person who can contribute to the future.

I am Mukhammadjonova Ugiloy.
I am a 9th grade student at this school. I am proud of my school!

LINNAEUS GENESIS

God is existence.

In God’s image are beetles,

amoebas, and men.

APPLE BLUES

Look at me: bold, fat as an apple.

Here I am, bald, fat as an apple.

But don’t value goods just by their wrapper.

Old as your father, that’s what you said.

“You’re old’s my father,” is what you said.

But that’s no bother, not decrepit yet.

May look like a wolf, pitted and ugly.

Big bad old wolf, grizzled and ugly.

Feed me love enough, tame as a puppy.

You think I’m a shit, I make your garden grow.

I may be a shit, but I make your garden grow.

When you need a prick, let me be your rose.

(Lean me against your marrow like a giant midget jumbo shrimp. Hold my poor minute against all infinity like any other parasol you’d prop against a hurricane. A gossamer-armored middleaged scholar in swimming trunks, let my steady frailty hold the frailty of your own, let my cardboard walls withstand the world’s assault.)

Look at me: bold, fat as an apple.

Look at me, bald just like an apple.

Don’t value the goods just by their wrapper.

If you break your compass, I am true north.

You lose direction, here I am, true north.

And when you end your wanders I’m fire in your hearth.

If I’m silent, don’t have much to say.

I’m kind of silent, not a lot to say.

Just like my violence, words left yesterday.

Horny old bastard, last grape on the vine.

Horny old bastard, the end of the line.

Wrinkled and blasted grape a-makes the sweetest wine.

TANTRIC ALCHEMY

a.

LUNAR ILLUMINATI

Moonlight albedos

us. We together ourselves,

purified by night.

b.

EROTIC CONIUNCTIO

Our oneness complete,

I applaud stiff rubedo.

The coming of the dawn.

c

DIURNAL REPAIR

Sun’s citrinitas

fixes the constituents

nigredo broke down.

SALLY

A thaw wind stole softened in

and walked its shadow down the wall,

unedged this heart of flint.

Yes, this hunchback which I am

exhibits its Olympic plaque 

like one more oriflamme. 

You renew dry blooms like a spring.

The I-as-eunuch whom you know 

has fixed his battering

ram, dug his sword from the mould.

This dragon hiding in my skin

must now expose his gold.

Dead still limbs tortured to bud.

At last this dark tyrant deposed.

Hurt earth unfroze to mud.

Freezing night can’t sleep so long 

as flowers burst in firework 

and larks upon the spring.

Mountains take off robes of snow 

and rivers caps of ice 

as spring’s wind begins to blow.  

TIDAL

I scavenge driftwood,

shells, and pebbles from the beach.

The ocean beyonds.

Here is another day without you,

Hijran will punish this sick heart.

A night that cannot equal my dark heart,

What remains are the spaces left by the stars.

Here is another day without you,

My eyes are wide open, close to the river.

I’m still waiting because I miss you,

I feel a pang of pain in my heart.

Here is another day without you,

Today is passing, and tomorrow will pass.

Years may pass,

I always have your pictures on my page.

Here is another day without you,

Trust me, no one is waiting for you like I am.

Waiting is not difficult for this Sabrim,

Maybe I won’t be able to live without you.

Here is another day without you,

Tell me, how can I comfort this heart?

My longing cries are so sad,

My life is so sad now.

Navoi region, Navbahor district

BARE

Then, as if I had bared my soul to the sky,

through words and tears I broke the endless dry,

through a gaze brighter than any star could be,

through a silent talk, more secret than secrecy.

Then, as if I had foreseen something near,

I told my unrest and omens, clumsy yet sincere,

my armor and my shields I cast upon the road,

my fears and sorrows I left in some other abode.

Those tremors and thoughts were part of my name,

wandering aimlessly since the dawn it came.

That night, a naked soul looked them in the eyes,

and, as in every tale, beheld fear’s disguise.

—

Ana Glendža was born on January 16, 2001, in Cetinje. She graduated in Psychology in 2023 at the Faculty of Philosophy, University of Montenegro, where she also enrolled in master’s studies the same year. She is currently in the final phase of her master’s program, working on her thesis titled “Diabetes as a Risk Factor for the Development of Depressive Symptomatology.”

She approaches poetry spontaneously – she writes when it finds its way to her. She perceives verse as a possibility to express those parts of herself she does not reveal to others, but also as a path to self-discovery, since through writing she often uncovers what she had not known before. She believes that the written word holds healing power – both for the author and the reader. Each poem, in her view, carries a fragment of the personality of its creator, while the reader has the freedom to discover new meanings and open the doors within themselves.

She is a member of the Association of Young Artists of Culture.

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

INTERNATIONAL POETRY ANTHOLOGY 2025

La Fenêtre de Paris, 4th Edition

Editor: Poet Abu Zubier, France

Water: The Source of Life

SUBMISSION RULES

Language: Poems must be submitted in English only.

Length: Maximum 50 lines per poem. with short Bio of 300 words

Original Work: Only original, unpublished works will be accepted. No previously published poems in print or online are allowed.

Format: Submit poems in Word (.doc/.docx) or PDF format. Include the poet’s name, country, and email in the document itself.

COPYRIGHT RULES

By submitting, poets grant La Fenêtre de Paris rights to publish the work in this anthology in digital and print formats.

IMPORTANT DATES & CONTACT

DEADLINE: 20th October 2025

SUBMISSION EMAIL: lafenetredeparis2025@gmail.com

WhatsApp Contact: +33758301645 (for inquiries only)

The Less Fortunate

The less fortunate

aren’t born into

family fortunes.

The les fortunate

have unbalanced

savings accounts.

The less fortunate

live upon the generosity

of the most greedy.

The less fortunate

hands are slapped

when offered handouts.

The less fortunate

are not entitled

to welfare royalty.

The less fortunate

depend upon for-profit

vanity charities

run by celebrities

for court-ordered 

community service

and tax breaks.

The less fortunate

must sell vital organs

to earn a living.

The less fortunate

stand in bread lines

until they harden stale.

The less fortunate

have no meat 

on their chicken bones.

The less fortunate

choke in dust bowls

on farms that don’t grow.

The less fortunate

shall inherit the earth,

only to be given

a useless patch of dirt.

Horse’s Wagon

You can lead

a drunk

to water,

but you can’t

help them

from mixing 

it with 

their whiskey. 

Fifty is the New Fifteen

When modern medicine becomes more concerned with curing 

male-pattern baldness, erectile dysfunction and low testosterone, 

folks look a lot whole better on the outside 

than they do on the inside.

Anatomy of a Writer

Ten fingers 

and 

a brain

is all 

I need.

The rest 

of me

just gets 

in the way.

Little Poem

I am a little poem,

made, not born,

in need of defined meaning,

as rough scrap paper drafts

folded into paper airplanes 

crash land through blizzards 

of crumpled snow balls into 

the overflowing recycling bin, 

until the inevitable avalanche.

But with so many 

words to write,

there are only so many

empty pages of white. 

Chris Butler is an illiterate poet. He has published ten collections of poetry, including Artsy Fartsy (Alternating Current), DOOMER (Ethel) and Neurotica (Scars Publications). He is also the co-editor of The Beatnik Cowboy.