A plea
Beloved like my mother
God gave you to me
I live as your child
I give my life to you, my country.
Let me lean on you, my wing
I will say it will not pass
I am sorry for the ingratitude
I give my life to you, my country
Don't be offended by me
If you are sad, I will be the one
Do not be humiliated in the hands of Yav
My life is devoted to you, my country
My sister, brother, don't shed tears
I will never leave you
May the sun not leave your head
My life is devoted to you, my country.
Running to your service
Be the only one for you
Pulling out my heart
Homeland, I give my life to you.
I will finish it before I die
Yozai senchun epic cry
My eyes are a charm for you
My life is devoted to you, my country.
The throne of other countries is not needed
It's okay if I'm in your arms
A heart that does not love you is heartless
My life is devoted to you, my country.
Member of the "Yosh kalamkashlar" club of the Barkamol Avlod children's school, Kogon district, Bukhara region, 9th grade student of the 17th school in the district, "I bow to those who know you", regional stage 1_place winner.
(Photo of a Central Asian teen girl in a white blouse and black coat with dark hair up in a bun).
My dear teacher who made us dear!!!
This day is in the bosom of a clear sky,
Navo sounds very long,
Thank you my kind teacher,
For giving us your knowledge.
This world is short, dear teacher,
You teach the necessary subjects,
I am great today because of you
Browsing books, the world of knowledge.
You know me, hold my hand
If I don’t come, you will wait for my way anyway
Sacrificed everything for me
Like my mother, the world has swallowed sorrows.
My dear teacher is as great as my father,
I love you
My teacher Madina is my best teacher,
My blossoming spring, you sweet summer.
I can’t live without you
One day I will definitely be like you
People all over the world are envious,
I will send you flowers
You will always be in my heart,
I learn a lot from you,
My body lives with you
My heart flutters every time I see you.
Sobirjonova Rayhona, a 10th-grade student of the 8th general secondary school in Vobkent district, Bukhara region. She was born in December 2008 in the village of Chorikalon, Vobkent district, in a family of intellectuals. Her parents supported her from a young age. She started writing in the 3rd grade. Her first creative poem was published in the newspaper “Vobkent Hayot”. She has also published extensively inSynchronized Chaos, India’s Namaste India Magazine, Gulkhan Magazine, Germany’s RavenCage Magazine and many other magazines and newspapers. She has actively participated in many competitions, won high ranks and many prizes. She is still busy creating.
If your father is with you
You are not walking on a bad road, zinhor.
Good wishes are in your blood.
You're lucky, you're always happy,
If your father is with you
You will not be one of the others,
I'm sorry if you don't break your heart.
Blessings to those who work,
If your father is with you.
One of the moon and one of the sun
Don't let the tears flow.
If you are proud, don't bend your head,
If your father is with you.
Smile on your children's faces,
Carelessness and sadness in an unpressing heart.
This is your friend and this is your country,
If your father is with you.
Prayers are answered,
May your days be filled with joy.
Happiness will not leave you,
If your father is with you.
Don't be ignorant, don't be weak,
Enjoy every moment.
Your heart will never have a dream,
If your father is with you.
Khaitmurodov Ismail
Address: Samarkand city
Alfraganus is a 3rd year student of the Faculty of Economics
Breathe
The maple trees told me it's in the ashen branches
Where the squirrels hide
Their little child soul set afar from human conditions
I surmise the longing of things
From near and far
Where the river is spread out against the sky
The night stars are falling around
I saw in a sleep
The jumpings and quiverings of non living things
Stay in my mind like a biscuit parchment paper
I blew the dandelions too loudly
Alas they catch the midheaven star
The North node of all our dreams where they shine
I now think of the maple trees
The red apples sodden
With arched bow whites
I know not what to name these
Perhaps they carry their own destiny
A hidden blush of lost stars and milkyways
I breathe in thee.
I was born in Asaka district of Andijan region, in a family of intellectuals.
All my achievements today are due to the support of my parents since childhood.
My parents taught me to read and write, they brought me books every week, my childhood was spent in social activity, participating in various contests, and working on myself.
The doors that were closed in my face encouraged me to be stronger, to act more boldly towards my goal, and I achieved all this.
The award is not important for me, it is important that I can do it and be recognized.
When I graduated, I grew up as a strong person. During this period, I rediscovered myself as a person. Although I am a positive person, my first year as an applicant was somewhat difficult. But it was the process of adaptation that opened up new horizons in my psyche. I devoted my time to learning more. My efforts to study and research were not in vain.
For the first time, with the intention of going abroad, I took a course in the subject that I had studied little. The fact that I gained experience in different directions has a great role in my financial independence.
My parents have a big role in everything. Since childhood, I have always strived for the best in everything. I thank my parents, who did not put pressure on me and did not set limits saying, “You are a girl.”
“My daughter knows very well what to say and which way to walk, no matter where she is,” they say.
My parents have a great role in my success.
From my parents, I learned to be honest and truthful, to constantly work on myself, to make the most of every moment. For this reason, I did not suffer financially.
Since I was 16 years old, I tried to support myself and cover my needs.
My lifestyle, dreams and goals, which I have always promised myself, give me strength and motivation.
Olimova Muslima Odiljon’s daughter was born on 07.08.2007 in the city of Asaka, Andijan region. She graduated from the 13th school of Asaka district with a gold medal. Andijan Mechanical Engineering Institute. 1st year student of Information Systems and Technologies, Faculty of IB and CT.
*** Getting to know silence The clouds in the sky burst silently The veins on the arm burst silently The dead cry silently Thunder rumbles without any unnecessary sounds Fish heads don’t scream Even mosquitoes don’t squeak A military pilot prepared to drop a quiet (but only for the time being) air bomb
*** the existence of clouds for the sake of the existence of rain the creation of man for the sake of the creation of god I know everything in the world except the truth
*** The future is water The future is a spit I collect spit and tears I pretend that the cemetery is a space rocket I pretend Im going to the stars But in fact Im picking mushrooms in the forest after an explosion in the forest near Hiroshima
*** Religion was invented for those Who have not yet died Each of us dreams of being Jesus Christ Each of us is a baby Вut where are the Magi
*** БОГ ГОГ LOL LOLA LOL A LOL Æ LOL ГОГ ВАН ГОГ ONE GOG VAN GOGH VAH GOG AH GOD A DOG AD OG АД ОХ ЛХ ОХ ХХ ХХ ОО ОО Zero Nothing
***
Chorus.
Silence.
Silence kills.
Silence is a source of information,
And the deader it is,
The more valuable it is.
Music.
The choir repeats the same thing,
Nailing silence to the emptiness.
Creepy, fascinating.
Chorus is loneliness.
It is unbearable to hear
How insanely lonely
Each individual voice is.
All voices arise from silence.
All voices arise from loneliness.
All voices are singing.
Singing is the twin of music.
Music is made up of sounds:
Silence and stillness.
Sound is a movement
That moves towards
The one who hears it.
Hear the silence while waiting
For the end of life.
Listen to silence
During your own apocalypse.
And sing.
Almost die.
Life is almost dead.
Death is almost beautiful.
Death is silence.
Death is a song
Without words,
Without a voice.
Chorus.
Silence.
Silence kills.
***
Blind people do not interfere with those who are happy. Night with silence. Occasionally there is the sound of cars on the street. Steps on the stairs. The noise of neighbors voices and the clatter of dishes.
A blind man is looking for a roof. The stars are shining and there is nowhere to hide from the shine. Its not snowing. There is no access to the roof.
A blind man is looking for a basement. A blind man plays hide and seek. The door to the basement is closed.
A blind man is looking for a home. A blind man does not want to live in a house without color. There is a sharpened knife on the table. The soul turns into a bird. The door is open.
***
I teach the lights to light up
I learn from people about combustion
Matches have no soul
Matches can break
You can build a house and death out of matches
The flowers in which the cemetery is floating are fake
