Shelter
White dim curtains began to cover the blue sky. The wind is blowing the smell of rain and wet asphalt. On the side of the road, a child hugged his cane, spread a handkerchief on the ground in front of him, and looked at the passers-by with hope. Some hurriedly left without even paying attention to the child, while others
tried to tell him that the rain which came in a downpour. As soon as the child began to move slowly, it rained by nature’s inexhaustible will. No one was left on the street.
The poor child, leaning on his cane, managed to become a wet in no
time. At the beginning of the street, headed towards a rich man’s magnificent built house. Approaching the gate, he rang the bell and saw that the broad-shouldered rich man’s upward looking eyebrows did not suit his serious appearance at all. At that moment in a rough voice:
- What do you need, orphan?
- I came to seek refuge with temporarily, shivering with clothes clinging to my body and even my ribs. Can’t you shelter from one side of your yard until the rain stops? Said the child.
The rich man insulted him and slammed the door shut. From under her reddened eyelids, coral tears dripped onto my heart. I called the child, helped him and led him to my small hut. The hiccups that came out of his voice were like human moans coming out of the basement without sound. He was staring at the sky at night. The sky seemed to rage unceasingly and the grassy lines flashing. The ground trembled and screams were heard. Because the child has no legs and relies
on a cane, we didn’t catch up to go out and stayed inside the house.
While we were praying, dawn was breaking through the window. The child reached for his cane, eager to leave. Helping him out, I saw a rich man with his head in his hands. The magnificent house of the rich man could not withstand the rage of the earth in one night. As people slowly surrounded the area, among them the rich man’s face was pale, his legs were motionless, his lips were trembling, and his eyes were looking at the child with pain and regret….
Nosirova Gavhar was born on August 16, 2000 in the city of Shahrisabz, Kashkadarya region of Uzbekistan. Today, she is a third-year student of the Faculty of Philology of the Samarkand State University of Uzbekistan. Being a lover of literature, she is engaged in writing stories and poems. Her creative works have been published in Uzbek and English. In addition, she is a member of «All India Council for Development of Technical Skills», «Juntos por las letras» of Argentina, «2DSA Global Community». Winner of the «Korabl znaniy» and «Talenty Rossii» contests, holder of the international C1 level in the Russian language, Global Education ambassador of Wisdom University and global coordinator of the Iqra Foundation in Uzbekistan. «Magic pen holders» talented young group of Uzbekistan, «Kayva Kishor», «Friendship of people», «Raven Cage», «The Daily Global Nation», Argentina;s «Multi Art-6», Kenya’s «Serenity: A compilation of art and literature by women» contains creative works in the magazine and anthology of poets and writers.
Waltz of Electrons
In the realm of circuits and code,
Where electrons dance, secrets unfold.
Technology, our modern muse,
Weaves dreams in lines of binary hues.
Science, the seeker of truth profound,
Observes the cosmos, its mysteries unbound.
Through telescopic eyes, it peers afar,
Unraveling galaxies, each distant star.
Together they waltz, hand in hand,
In laboratories and cyberspace land.
Science whispers equations to the wind,
While Technology builds bridges to begin.
From silicon valleys to particle streams,
They birth innovations, like celestial beams.
Quantum leaps and bytes of insight,
They illuminate our world, day and night.
So raise a glass to this harmonious pair,
For they propel us forward, beyond compare.
In the symphony of progress, they play their part,
Technology and Science—a dance of heart.
Muntasir Mamun Kiron is a student of grade 10 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
The Tragedy of Gaza
In Gaza's tragedy, a tale unfolds,
Of broken dreams and stories untold.
Where children's laughter mingles with fear,
And sorrow's shadow stays near.
In destroyed streets, hearts ache and mourn,
Yet from the ashes, resilience is born.
In Gaza's situation, a request for peace,
May hope's gentle whispers never cease.
Wazed Abdullah is a student of grade nine in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
Terrible Summer
In the heat of a terrible summer's day,
The sun blazes with unrelenting sway.
Sweat-soaked shirts cling to weary backs,
As temperatures rise on endless tracks.
Parched landscapes gasp for a drop of rain,
While nature wilts in the scorching pain.
The air is thick with a stifling heat,
No relief found in shade or retreat.
Oh, how the sun in its cruel delight,
Seems to stretch the day into endless night.
The once lively songs of birds are still,
As the heat suffocates with its sweltering will.
Don Bormon is a student of grade nine in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
What's Going On
Every traveler's journey is over
He turned back, Spring came,
Frustration is over.
The fragrance of the narcissus came,
What happens if you come too!
In every space there is a you
You are the only one in my dream.
Justice "Magic Wand" Him to me, me to him
What happens if you meet!
The words of this love,
Love of lovers,
Do not write in books,
Let it live in hearts,
What happens if you know this!
O God, hear me
The color of my rose face fades!
Slowly the joy goes,
The heart is filled with sadness,
What happens if you have mercy!
Elmaya Jabbarova - was born in Azerbaijan. She is poet, writer, reciter, translator. Her poems were published in the regional newspapers «Shargin sesi», «Ziya», «Hekari», literary collections «Turan», «Karabakh is Azerbaijan!», «Zafar», «Buta», foreign Anthologies «Silk Road Arabian Nights», «Nano poem for Africa», «Juntos por las Letras 1;2», «Kafiye.net» in Turkey, in the African's CAJ magazine, Bangladesh's Red Times magazine, «Prodigy Published» magazine. She performed her poems live on Bangladesh Uddan TV, at the II Spain Book Fair 1ra Feria Virtual del Libro Panama, Bolivia, Uruguay, France, Portugal, USA.
Life
In the years
I've been traveling uphill.
and savored
every situation
like a fruit.
I have tried lemon
bitterly
that I even arrived
To get accustomed
I have lived
situations
gentle
like lime
the temptation of
strawberries and sweet
cherries
gladly.
The eaten kiwi
with a mix of flavors and
situations.
I have eaten salad
fruit
without tasting
the taste of nothing.
Today at this age
I select what i want to eat
And I enjoy every moment.
I'm coming
to the top of my life
and I will take my best
memories
Mirta Liliana Ramírez has been a poet and writer since she was 12 years old. She has been a Cultural Manager for more than 35 years. Creator and Director of the Groups of Writers and Artists: Together for the Letters, Artescritores, MultiArt, JPL world youth, Together for the letters Uzbekistan 1 and 2. She firmly defends that culture is the key to unite all the countries of the world. She works only with his own, free and integrating projects at a world cultural level. She has created the Cultural Movement with Rastrillaje Cultural and Forming the New Cultural Belts at the local level and also from Argentina to the world.
Tombstone
Tell me what should I compose
My pen is paralyzed
My garden turns into wasteland
My brain is fully unprofessional
The Nature is disorder
The environment is disturbed
The tree of loneliness is increasing
Absence lives in presence
Nobody can hear the heartbeat of air
I am without me
I am alone
Everyone is alone
The earth is alone
Birds do not dream
Dream has no existence
Flowers sleep outside the sight of butterflies
The butterflies burnt their flute
The cowboys don’t play flute
My spring has lost it's beauty
Beauty doesn't smile
The children have lost their silver moon
The moon doesn’t compose poems on the sky
The sky doesn't sing the song of humanity
Humanity doesn’t give water to the grasses
Grasses don’t walk on the roads
The roads are without passersby
One fears another
Shadow fears shadow
Life flies far away
History weeps behind civilization
The pregnant darkness plays with darkness
The funeral of spirituality has ended
The houses become hospitals
The world is a graveyard
Writing is a Tombstone
Oh The Lord of the universe
I am your
We are your
Pardon us and save us.
