Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf

Born in Andijan, where he took root,

To poetry, he brought his tribute,

His aching heart poured words absolute,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

A simple poet, his face sincere,

His words are humble, his gaze is clear,

His verses we cherish, hold them dear,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

His poems are famous in his land,

In Andijan, Namangan, and Kokand.

Such poets are rare across the strand,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

He wrote of his nation’s silent cries,

Of gazelles with tears in their eyes,

Of venomous scorpions in disguise,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

The ram was slaughtered at a whim,

A white steed left without a claim.

Love burned his heart with ruthless flame,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

He loved a Turkmen girl, fate turned cruel,

Her portrait burned with a passion fuel.

Confessing love, he broke his rule,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

His homeland’s history in verse he traced,

Red tulips in sorrow, their petals embraced.

In Ellikqala, his breath was erased,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

A legacy vast he left behind,

His words still echo in heart and mind.

Letters to his mother, tenderly signed,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

A songbird son of Uzbek soil,

Born in a farmer’s hands, free of guile.

His poetry binds hearts with style,

Muhammad Yusuf is Muhammad Yusuf.

Dilbek Ergashev is a 3rd year student of the direction of organization and management of the activities of cultural and art institutions at the State Institute of Art and Culture of Uzbekistan.