My Migrant Father

Though labor weighs him down with strain,

He says, “If it is honest, that’s my gain.”

He lives afar, a migrant far from home,

To build our house, through foreign lands to roam.

When thoughts of family fill his mind,

Longing grips his heart, so cruel, unkind.

Like pearls, his tears fall from his eyes,

Adorning sorrow no one ever spies.

“Daddy, when will you return?” they pray,

His children wait and hope each day.

Too late they learn his worth so true,

Their hearts now ache with deep regret anew.

Your sweetest tea has lost its taste,

Your earned-up money feels like waste.

This splendid house, so rich, so grand,

Without a father—no builder’s hand.

Gulsevar Mirzamahmudova was born on May 12, 2009, in Eskiarab village, Oltiariq District of Fergana Region. She is currently an 11th-grade student of Class 11B at General Secondary School No. 23. She is a holder of the National Certificate in Uzbek Language and Literature.