My literary portrait
I read poetry
until morning
Meeting, love, sweet sadness.
In front of my eyes are bad legs,
Diseased helpful grasses.
I read poetry
of songbirds
About free flight.
Afghan birds in front of my eyes,
It passes away in a withered tree.
I read poetry
my grandfather Alpomish!
I swear, we are the sons of the Alps!
There is no Kuntugmish in front of my eyes,
Neither Rustam nor Gorogli.
I read poetry
higher emotions:
Faith, honesty, kindness.
Brothers and sisters in front of my eyes,
They do not show mercy to each other.
I read poetry
the world is bright.
I’m here, the sky is clear.
It is clear before my eyes,
A world of steppe wolf
I read poetry
again and again.
Loud claps are played.
I have eternal applause in front of my eyes,
Curse the father of clappers.
I read poetry,
deceiving the nation,
Close your eyes to everything.
I do not tremble on any page,
I read poetry and call myself a poet…
Farrukh Amirov
Young Uzbek poetÂ