The origin of the South Korean alphabet is phonetic syllabic writing. It was created in 1444 during the reign of King Se-Jong (1419-50) by Korean scholars Chon Nin Ji, Sin Suk Chu, Son Sam Mum. Until the first half of the 15th century, the Korean language used Chinese hieroglyphic writing. However, since Chinese was the literary language of Koreans during this period, the new national alphabet did not spread widely. By the end of the 19th century, hieroglyphic writing began to be used again in the Korean language. This writing alphabet represents 24 phonemes. Other phonemes are formed by adding letters. Current Korean writing has 40 graphemes, of which 24 are simple and 16 are complex. But the order of these graphemes is different in the DPRK and the Republic of Korea. Previously, texts were written from top to bottom and from right to left. Now more left-to-right writing is drawing components are written separately from top to bottom.
Like traditional Chinese and Japanese scripts, as well as many other East Asian texts, Korean texts were traditionally written from top to bottom, right to left, sometimes for stylistic purposes. However, Korean is now usually written from left to right, unlike Japanese and Chinese, where spaces act as separators between words. Hangul is the official writing system throughout North and South Korea. It is a cooperative official writing system of Yanbian Korean Autonomous Prefecture and Changbai Korean Autonomous County in Jilin Province, China. Hangul has also seen limited use in the Cia-Cia language.
Oh flower,
are you scared
from a temporary wind?
did you hide among the leaves?
didn't it fall down you
old walls?
Have you shed your leaves?
Did you keep your dreams alive?
Why are you still bowing your head?
The air smells like rain
Oh, flower
be afraid of mud!
from mud!
THE CHARACTER OF JALOLIDDIN MANGUBERDI IN HISTORICAL SOURCES
Karimova G.Q Urganch State University
Abstract: The image and personality of Sultan Jalaluddin Manguberdi is described in the article. Key words: Khorezmshahs, Mankburnis, Juvainis of Atama, Shihobiddin An-Nasawi, Mongols, Kudrat Mashiripov, Maksud Sheikhzade.
A brave fighter who sacrificed his life for the freedom of the country, a true patriot, a national hero, a great man who left an indelible mark in the history of world nations, a skilled commander, the last ruler of the Khorezmshah dynasty, Sultan Jalaluddin Manguberdi (1198-1231) is the eldest son of Muhammad Khorezmshah. He lives 33 years and spends 11 years of his life in battle. Full name: Jalaluddin ibn Alauddin Muhammad. Jalaluddin was named Mankburni because he had a hole (mank) on his nose. Later, this name changed in pronunciation and became known as “Manguberdi”.
Many scholars wrote works about Sultan Jalaluddin Manguberdi. Aluuddin Otamalik Juvaini says about Sultan Jalaluddin in his work “Tarihi Jahon Kuso”:
“Among the sons of Sultan Muhammad, Sultan Jalaluddin was the oldest, the crown of the kingdom, courageous, learned, and the light of the lamp of theology. Despite the fact that other brothers were given worldly blessings, Sultan Jalaluddin never left his father’s side and helped him in state affairs. When his father did right and wrong things, he told them to his face.
Jalaluddin Manguberdi’s munshi, contemporary and close friend, Shihobbiddin An-Nasawi, wrote down a lot of information about the Sultan in his work “Siirat al-Sultan Jalal-ad-Din”. He states that he fought for the freedom of the country and the people, fought against the Mongols for 11 years, fought against the Mongols 14 times and won 13 battles.
Kudrat Masharipov mentions that Jalaluddin Khorezmshah was the bearer of the freedom struggle, he was successful in the continuous struggles, he showed himself as a famous general and a great statesman, and in a short time he restored the state of the Khorezmshah empire in the south-west of Iran, Khorasan, Azerbaijan, and Iraq.
In fact, even to this day, our grandfather is Mangubarhayat. Maqsud Sheikhzade expresses the image of Sultan Khorezmshah in the drama “Jalaluddin Manguberdi” with the following words: … He who has a place in mortality – lives forever, I’m Manguberdi, I know.
From the sky, from the water, or from the ground, Maybe from the desert, from the foot of the mountain, I’ll show up here one day The devil of the country is in an un-buryable desert-cave. Death does not blind to noble intentions, Whoever chases the enemy from his country, it is me…
In conclusion, the memory of our ancestors who sacrificed their lives for the freedom and peace of the country will always be alive. Their bravery, bravery and bravery in the way of the fate of the homeland is an example. It is difficult to express the great courage of our great grandfather in one word. Sultan Jalaluddin fought valiantly against the enemy while protecting his country. He heroically imprinted his image and his boundless love for the motherland in the history.
Reference list:
Juvaini of Otama. The history of the world. Translation by Nazarbek Rakhim. T: MUMTOZ SOZ, 2015. – 275 p.
Q. Masharipov. Jalaluddin Manguberdi’s role in world political and military history. Tashkent: Yoshlar media print, 2021. – 256 p. Internet networks:
Musing
There goes my path
Of unflinching state
Devotees of choir sang
An unsung ballad
Trees whispering a
Mountain of trees
Cobalt blue of musing
Masterpiece
I jumped an untrodden museum
Kite runners held their guns
Glory’s unmet desires
Full of nonchalant melody
It is the season of
Unspoken understanding
Vanilla blue topaz in my hand
My path rained a thousand
Prophet song
Devotees of choir of
Newly built musing.
the wild borne sea, the true salted places w/those sandbanks and even the broken bits of shells are okay, glistening somehow in the dawn, and in the afternoon light. cargo ships on the horizon, like ghosts vessels moving in an etheric ephemeral eternal astral. walking away along the shores there is a place w/bricks and stones where people had a fire, and the dirt roads that curve up to the right just so and long past verdant palm trees and the countenance of the lands, lands rugged and strange, mystical and beautiful, ancient and new that boast of beige sand more plus other indigenous flora and fauna, where the hills look like faces of spirits that don’t have a classification and have never been seen before, where the rains when they descend tell myriad stories and the sun after is a calm and right poem not too long or short, but perfectly accessible then.
that old path
that old path, new again, the one at the northern most place. how different than other paths, more vast and w/taller trees. there is a long and straight part that is perhaps my favourite. framed by verdant leaves in the summer’s sun and snowy branches along winter’s way whimsical. the path is always right and well. we must go to there again, more often. somehow we waited too long since that last time. oh that old path, where the evergreens grow and the birds wait beyond, where the north mingles with the south insomuch that you can begin to feel hints there of the truth of winds wild and vast lands, of unabridged nature in its season’s cycles wonderfully rugged rural rustic.
silence and wonder, far and far
on the summit of an otherwise wide field banked by a valley on one end and a forest on the other, it had began to snow. I remember that, and at that part there is sumac and apparently there are two kinds in the world and I’m not sure which one it is. it is a thing because it retains its colour like the evergreens, all through the changing seasons. and there was a lower field at the end w/an entrance to where chaga mushrooms sought by many, lived upon old birch trees. if you went in there you had to tread slowly as the path goes winding and up and down and you are then certainly all alone. you have to really respect the land there and it wouldn’t hurt to say a little prayer for safe passage. but it is worth it, full of silence and wonder and atmosphere,- the trees and leaves and earth and little streams are touched by the outside world. what a home for the woodland squirrel and any other thing. even the wind is blocked for the most part. the wind…the wind…the say new December wind that races through fields announcing its story for anyone that would listen.
sun cloud valley
the sun shone through the clouds and married then the floor of the valley where there are hidden but once found, distinct footpaths. who made the paths is not known, but even with the leaves they are still pronounced enough to travel. and the snow. it began snowing then and the clouds and the light and the small breeze cold made for a good scene and sight. what would the winter bring to those lands of birch and sumac, of mushroom and agate, of tall proud evergreen and old fallen leaves? the winter like the spring and summer and fall, is by no means one dimensional, but like a person or country, or like many things, has different aspects. but yes for then,- the sun and the clouds and the light snow and the wind all visited the valley. the valley housing different paths up and down and around,- paths like lines of some larger poem or story.
You can always achieve your dreams. You just have to believe and act. It’s true that sometimes you get depressed, things may not seem like it, but your efforts will pay off one day. You just have to sincerely believe in dreams.
I also have many dreams and I am gradually achieving these dreams.
You know, many years ago, when I was 6 or 7 years old, my parents used to take us to many festivals and theaters, and I was envious of those who participated in the festival or those who acted on stage. I used to say to myself that I wish I could go to the stage and take part in the celebrations. I dreamed of being like them, thinking that maybe I would be like them when I grow up. I had forgotten this dream of mine. But when I was young, I was so envious that I was able to play a role in the theater at the age of 14 and at the age of 15 to perform on the big stage at the festival. After a long time, I achieved my dream. True, some people may say that this is both a job and a dream, but I am very happy that I have achieved my dream from my youth and I once again believed that if a person really wants something, that dream will come true. Your dream may not come true when you want it, but your dream may come true at an unexpected time.
Believe in your dreams and keep moving. Because you can’t make dreams come true.
Toshtemirova Dildora Hakim qizi. She was born on October 9, 2008. A lot has been achieved so far. Here articles and poems have been published in many newspapers and magazines. Member of many organizations. She is the holder of an international certificate.
Shout out
My eyes are covered with pain,
Think of my crying look without him.
The guilty part is handed over to the Haqq,
Sing a song for the unemployed heart.
Name your song love tune,
After all, I did not find "freedom" in the world.
Step by step, stepping on the threshold of pain,
The fate we have been waiting for is coming.
You read your book quietly,
The heart is dying before your eyes.
You can read a little bit.
Even your mind is as bright as a deer.
Write about me on the pages,
Because life does not die in lines.
Completion is in minutes,
If you forget, I'll die.
From broken buds of hope,
A bud will emerge.
I release my heart from the knots,
Because the story of my life has an end.
read my eyes know the truth
I loved you without seeing it.
Don't even think about it.
I met you in the spring...
Murodova Farangiz Asliddin's daughter was born on September 25, 2004 in Gallaorol district, Jizzakh region.
