Akramova Sarvinoz Boboyor qizi,
Student of Navoi State University
Orcid ID: 0009-0003-9780-3976
Email: akramovasarvinoz53@gmail.com
Parents
My father is my mountain-strong support,
My mother, a river of love and joy.
While they are here, the world shines bright,
From them are born my love and delight.
My father’s labor is patience and might,
My mother’s prayer — the greatest light.
From two pure hearts, love was made,
A lifelong torch that lights my way.
Their words are lessons, their glances — bliss,
In every breath, their traces exist.
While they are here, the world shines bright,
From them are born my love and delight.
abugame666@gmail.com
I think a debt of gratitude is owed to parents, both mother and father, for the sacrifices they have made for poets especially. Life is difficult, for all intents and purpose, poets who write are unlike an essayist who writes or even the novelist who writes. Sometimes the poet wants to celebrate something or an individual, sometimes they want to pay tribute to people in their lives. Is all poetry birthed from pain, that is a good question to ask I think.