Uzbek literature today stands at a fascinating crossroads between tradition and modernity. Rooted in the rich legacy of classical poets such as Alisher Navoi and modern writers like Abdulla Qodiriy, contemporary Uzbek literature continues to evolve in response to rapid social, cultural, and technological changes.
In recent years, there has been a noticeable revival of interest in national identity and language within the literary scene. Many young writers are exploring themes of self-discovery, cultural preservation, and the tension between globalization and tradition. The use of the Uzbek language in literature has expanded, with a growing number of poets and novelists choosing to write in their native tongue rather than in Russian, which dominated much of the Soviet era.
Digital media has also played a significant role in shaping the new literary landscape. Online platforms, blogs, and social media have provided young authors with the opportunity to share their works widely, bypassing traditional publishing barriers. This democratization of literature has led to a more diverse range of voices and perspectives being heard.
However, challenges remain. The publishing industry in Uzbekistan still faces financial and logistical difficulties, and there is a need for stronger international promotion of Uzbek literature. Many talented writers lack access to professional translation and global literary networks, which limits the global reach of their work.
Despite these challenges, the future of Uzbek literature looks promising. The new generation of writers is bold, creative, and deeply connected to both national heritage and global culture. Their works reflect the complexities of modern Uzbek society—its hopes, struggles, and dreams. With continued support for education, publishing, and translation, Uzbek literature is poised to gain wider recognition on the international stage.
Toshpo’latova Muxayyo Shokirjon qizi Student of the faculty of Philology,Uzbekistan State university World Language 3rd Year
Would you cry tears of blood, Or perform like a well-rehearsed actor on stage Acting the script down to each pause and sigh, Rolling your body like a prayer mat laid out in sorrow, for eyes to behold?
Would you stay longer beside my grave when footsteps fade away, Or would you offer prayers for the soil to welcome me with open arms then walk away too, like I was just another chapter You never meant to reread?
Would you tell tales of me like stories with imaginary characters less complex but easier to decipher, Or would you erase me like written text with chalk wipe off the board As if my existence is a myth?
Would you tell them we once shared something sacred, Absurd in the belief that we’re two sides of a coin even death can’t do us apart
Would you sit amidst my dirge gathering, and when prayer rises from unfamiliar voices skyward, Would you utter Ameen in silence, hoping each word finds me somewhere beyond reach where time no longer exists and my troubles finally cease?
Would you tell them they lived a library of words Sitting on the edges of your lips, some tucked in between your teeth that were meant for me but never saw the light of day?
Would the things left unsaid between us make you vigilant at night like a culprit at bay, Flinching with every reminiscence of me?
Would you stay with my mother after my Janāzah, Sit beside her in silence when words fail, And when she speaks of me with trembling lips, Would you try to picture me Somewhere in a garden where words can’t express, Where peace grows like wildflowers so she can smile knowing her son is with his beloved?
Would you tell them I once loved you Like the very breath in my lungs? That I chased you Like a shepherd following his flock Not out of routine, But because without them, He simply cannot live.
Or will you confess our parting was the cruelest lie That I became the echo that no cave has withstood? Tell them my love remains a phantom on your heart, the constant pressure that your spirit has missed, a quiet, deep longing that proves we never really died?
Abbas Yusuf Alhassan is a poet and a dedicated student of Fisheries and Aquaculture. Passionate about creative expression, he shares his work with a growing literary audience on Instagram. He has co-authored two anthologies: *Life and Death* (SGSH Publication) and *If Only Words Were Enough* (Al-Zehra Publication). Abbas values the art of learning and unlearning, continuously seeking new ideas and perspectives. While he studies life underwater, his soul resides in verse and stanzas.
Find him on Instagram: @Itzz_Abbasssss
Facebook & X (formerly Twitter): Abbas Yusuf Alhassan.
Another of my ideas concerns farms, but in a different way. This involves promoting an ancestral cultivation technique, which the Celts first used in Europe, but which has been largely forgotten since the Middle Ages: animal fallows.
As their name suggests, animal fallows, also known as grassy meadows or green meadows, are an agricultural land management technique that involves using fields left fallow for cultivation to graze livestock, particularly sheep or cattle.
Livestock grazing on fallow land helps renew it and fertilizes it by living there, so that soon, the meadows used in this way will be of even better quality than those left as only fallow. We gain from it: in natural fertilizers, in biodiversity, in soil mobility, for the soil is turned over by the animals, and from the livestock’s point of view, of course, in fodder and land usable for pasture. This is what our ancestors did. As I told you, it has been forgotten, and yet, having seen it done on land belonging to my family in Ariège, in France, I can guarantee that the results are surprisingly successful.
The principle of setting aside cultivated land is universal, even mandatory for farmers in many places, and yet these animal fallows I’m talking about are almost never used anywhere. So, this is good advice I want to offer farmers, which will help them revive their fields, which we know are tired, often impoverished by modern farming techniques and the various chemicals we use today.
While I’m talking about farms, I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you how much good I think about permaculture. Permaculture is a farming technique invented in Japan in the 1970s. It consists, primarily for market gardening, of using nature itself and the combinations of plants, including flowers, and crop seedlings, as well as the composition of the soil, to ensure an abundant harvest of vegetables and fruits or cereals, without using any fertilizers or pesticides, just letting nature take its course, so to speak, from what we have sown.
A permaculture food plot, for example, greatly contributes to the biodiversity of a local ecosystem. It’s particularly good for bees and pollinators. I recommend it to every farmer!
And, still talking about nature, I wanted to discuss with you an idea that is particularly close to my heart: the fruit forest.
Here we are again very close to permaculture, with this concept that designates a forest, perhaps a woodland, like so many in our country and around the world, where humans, through their labor to plant or graft fruit trees, allow wild fruits to be harvested in all seasons.
Let me explain: it is very easy to plant fruit tree seedlings in a natural wooded or forest environment, or to graft them onto host trees in the same locations, so that they will bear fruit in the desired season. By varying the species, for example, this can allow an entire forest to be abundant in fruit all year round.
Obviously, it will take a lot of human labor at the outset to achieve this result, a bit like maintaining a full-scale orchard. However, natural rhythms, and the wildlife that inhabits the area where we work, will help farmers and allow the penetration and even expansion of crops in the environment. Once the goal of a fruit-bearing forest is achieved, what benefits will there not be for its owners, first of all, to have an abundance of fruits that continue to grow by themselves almost in all seasons, for their own consumption, of course, or for market gardening, or even for their livestock, or even for the views of the game that this will bring to their land! What benefits will there not be for local biodiversity, for the flourishing of the flora, and of other tree species in particular, thanks to the insects and birds that it will bring, and finally for all the wildlife that will see a new pantry! The entire forest will benefit. This idea is close to my heart. It is particularly easy to envisage in France, where we have so many forests, hedgerows, and so on. And it will be equally so in all temperate wooded areas.
No doubt, it will seem a little utopian, then, for me to call on you to create a “forest of abundance” in this way. That being said, once again, the realization of this idea is very easy, locally at least. Anyone with a wood could achieve it in a few years of work. So, for a result that is understandably so profitable, we might as well get started and do it, right? I wanted to advise this to you!
