Tuesday, February 1, 2022





A Few Words About Pushkin ...


I love Pushkin not because

that he wrote in Russian.

I would adore it in any other language for being

that he is Pushkin.




If we do not respect Pushkin,

it means that we do not respect Humanity.



From the fact that one person

does not recognize Pushkin,

he never ceases to be Pushkin.



How much truth and wisdom

only in one of his fairy tales

"About the fisherman and the fish".



Before "Belkin's Tales"

I am always ready to take off my hat.



Do not accept Pushkin -

to be an incomplete person.



Neglect Pushkins -

compare yourself to a baseboard.



Not knowing Pushkin

you cannot be a full-fledged person.



Pushkin is one of those

who is born in the world once.



Open Heart


An open heart?

What does it mean.

This is a shirtless heart

Or clothes that are wide open,

Or window, door, shower.

Open heart?

What does it mean?

This heart beating outside

This is a picture as if through an ultrasound scan,

This is a picture through x-ray.

Open heart?

What is it.

It is a window open to the world.

Endless, endless, spacious.

It's like heaven.

Open heart?

What does it mean.

This is the heart that has God in it

In which love for people lives,

To life!!!

I live with an open heart

I never closed my heart.

My poetry does not live,

My open spirit lives in it!





Each tree has its own right - to grow,

Each herb has its right to turn green.

Each flower has its own right - to bloom,

Each moth has its own right - to fly.


Each ant has its own right to live.

Each river has its own right to flow

Each mountain has its own right to exist.

Each path has its own right - to go.



Wicked Intention


Don't use a sword, what's wrong with that?

Don't curse the bullets - it's a crime.

The thought of killing Ulugbek,

It is the same evil intention that shot Pushkin.


Do not throw stones at him,

Poisoning silver is society.

No, never turn away from sin,

It is this evil intention that has tied the rope.


The Poet's Truth: a unfired bullet,

Intention to shoot worse than that.

If there were these evil intentions,

The horror of war in the sky ...





A girl with brown hair walking,

The giant trees brought consciousness ...

Autumn on hanging seedlings

Opening his chest like an apple ...


The tree is strong, durable,

Seedlings entering the winter.

A tree that does not turn yellow -

The whispers are light fibers ....



Honey People


My beautiful people, my beautiful people, where are you from?

Who took you in their arms?

If you hate me, please, hate me,

I love you more!


My beautiful people, my beautiful people, where are you from?

Who are you sharing your love with today?

Well, if you don't recognize me, don't recognize me,

I'll live to see you!


My beautiful people, my beautiful people, where are you from?

Are you homeless in Saudi Arabia or the United States today?

Well, if you run away from me, leave,

I'll look for you anyway!


My beautiful people, my beautiful people, where are you from?

A kiss on the forehead and a kiss on the forehead.

Please turn away from me for life,

But I will love you forever!



My God!


God, I did what you said:

I went to bed and got up.

He said eat - ate, said do not eat - did not eat.

If you say drink, I drank, if you say don't drink, I didn't drink.

If you say sleep - I fell asleep, if you say wake up - I woke up.

If you say wear - I wore, if you say wear - I did not wear.

If you say yes, I went, if you say stay, I stayed.

If you say yes, I got it, if you say no, I didn't.

If you say write - I wrote, if you say write - I did not write.

Tell me - I told you, don't tell me - I didn't tell you.

Said - laugh, laugh, said don't laugh - didn't laugh.

If you say cry - I cried, if you say don't cry - I didn't cry.

If you say endure - I endured, if you say scream - I cried.

So I lived the way you wanted me to live.

The reason is that I am your slave.



It's Easier For Me To Speak In Poems ...


It's easier for me to speak in verse

Like a fish breathe water.

It's easier for me to answer with verses

How birds fly easier than walking.


It's easier for me to write in poetry

It's easier to sing a song like a nightingale.

It's easier for me to ask in verse

How easier it is for a dog to bark.


It's easier for me to think in verse

Than chatting with your tongue for hours.

It's easier for me to breathe with verses

How to breathe clean air!



This World Is An Interesting World


This world is an interesting world,

Someone was fighting.

Someone kicked the ball.

Someone is suing.


Someone wrote a poem,

Someone was carrying cannabis.

Someone was painting.

Someone was singing.


Someone is dancing.

Someone was killing him.

Someone was sweating.

Someone sold his body.


Someone gambled,

Someone bought gold.

Someone bought a pomegranate.

Someone was selling grapes.


Someone is crazy,

Someone is selling a sheep.

Someone bought a friend,

Someone sold his land.



My Dream Has Come


The dream of a six year old boy

She turned sixty years old.

Oh how long it took

But my dream still came.

And how many shoes and clothes did he tear during this time,

How much grief did you experience and sip of joy?

How many tears he shed, how many smiled

But my dream still came.

The minutes came. the hours came

Days came, nights went

Months came, years went by

But my dream still came.

Springs came, winters went away,

Summer came, autumn left.

Love came, separation left,

But my dream still came.

Hopes came, dreams went away

Aspirations came, lethargy went away.

Sometimes the ground slipped from under my feet.

But my dream still came!

The dream will definitely come to you

You just have to learn to wait.

God will not leave anyone without hope,

Your dream will definitely come!



Every Bird Has Its Rights


Every bird has its own rights

Each bird has its own character.

Favorite food, any flowers.

Favorite weather, favorite colors.

Try to touch her wings

Pat on the head without permission.

She will resist, scream

If she doesn't like it.

Every bird has a right to live

For a free, free life.

Take cages, traps out of her life,

It is designed to fly.

Every bird has its own rights

Like a tree, like a lion and a crocodile.

Like a turtle, a fish, an elephant.

Even a mosquito has the right to live in the world.

Each bird has its own rights.

She has the right to not be eaten by a cat.

Every bird has its own rights

Not to be eaten by a human.

Every flower has its own rights

He wants to bloom, don't you dare pick it.

It starts to smell on coming of age

Marry a flower with the help of a bee.

They kiss at night like people

In the future, they will have children.

What beautiful, colorful kids,

Their babies ripen in the buds.

Every bird has its own rights

Each creature has its own rights.

You have no right to abuse their rights

If you don't want God to punish you.




No wonder the ancient sages said:

"Love returns a hundredfold."

And they were right.

I have always loved the peoples of the world.

Today my love comes back to me

from all over the world!



White Clouds


White clouds are white swans

flying in the blue sky.

Sometimes they look alike

on transparent wedding dresses of daughters-in-law.

They circle above us. dancing.

Sometimes they depict different figures.

As if in a hurry to tell us about something.

But we don't understand the language of the clouds.

Sometimes they remind me

an armful of white cotton.

Maybe they really are the white bed of angels?

They always hover above us.

Maybe they are the footprints of the chariot of God?

Looking at the sky, it's like watching a movie on a blue screen.

There is a silent film.

White images show us something.

and every day I see a different picture.

A picture of white clouds - white swans.

Who cannot live without each other.



Thank God!


Oh God, how merciful you were, magnanimous,

when he created me

rewarding with a heart, irreconcilable with injustice.

For which I bow low to you.

All my life: from birth it is an injustice

lumpy in my throat

All my life I have not been able to come to terms with this social evil,

coming from the people themselves.

You have nothing to do with:

it's not your fault that our Earth is completely covered


Yes, all injustice comes from us humans.

We create injustice on Earth!

All this is our lust to blame.

Our insatiable eyes, greed.

We are for our own enrichment

neglected by other people.

We only think about ourselves.

At the same time, we forget about the existence of God.

We do mean things, we betray ...

For a profit or a place in the sun.

Oh God! I would never forgive You

if you made me the same scoundrel

that serves the injustice.

Oh how happy I am

that I cannot tolerate JUSTICE.

This hatred lives in my blood.

And I'm ready to fight to the last drop of blood

against INJUSTICE!






Not all bridges are good

there are bad bridges,

that serve evil:

let dangerous people pass through themselves,

with their dangerous goods.

At the same time they are silent,

do not offer resistance.

And this was all right.

But there are inner bridges

laid between bad people,

which are used for their own selfish purposes.

Through their secret bridges

they silently intrigue,

forcing simple, kind people to wander

between them.

Telling them one thing, doing another.

Perhaps they are the most dangerous of all

existing bridges in the world,

or rather a whole network of bridges,

serving only them, and their selfish purposes -

crooked bridges of duplicity.

Bridges like this are hard to find

they are almost impossible to destroy.

Because they're built with jealousy

greed, arrogance and evil.



A Drop


Sometimes we say dismissively:

"it's just a drop in the bucket."

But in fact, a drop means a lot,

as they say: "a drop wears away a stone."

A drop can kill, a drop can save.

Sometimes we lack at least a drop of conscience

honor, dignity.

For it is this drop that gives us the right

call yourself human.

Sometimes they ask to "take pity on a drop of blood"

This means that this drop is necessary for our body,

so that we stay alive.

A drop of grief can kill us

a drop of happiness can save us.


I Live...


I have my own way.

I have my name.

I have my own handwriting

I have my own mind.

I have my heart

I have my own soul.

I have my word

I have my own point of view.

I'm not writing to

to stay in history.

I live for

to justify the trust of the Creator.



I'm Only A Street Poet


I'm not a folk poet

I'm not an excellent student

And not a cultural figure.

Just just a street poet ...


No titles, no titles,

No orders and medals.

Without a position, job,

Just just a street poet ..


I'm a bum of Poetry,

Wanderer of Literature ...

Dog of Creativity.

Just just a street poet ...


I'm not a laureate

I'm not a winner

Not genius, not great

Just just a street poet ...


I'm not a champion

I'm not an Olympian.

I am not a football player.

Just just a street poet ...


I'm a beggar for lines

I'm a beggar for rhymes

I'm a beggar for rhythms

Just just a street poet ...



Uzbek Look


Uzbek gaze, the gaze is familiar to me from an early age,

He is painfully dear to me for as long as I can remember.

Turn it to me dad, mom, grandfather,

And my grandmother inherited, so that I remember.


I will not confuse with anyone, even though where I was not,

Striking as a familiar talisman.

In which there is a native philosophy,

Reminds me of my kind, this deep look.


He does not look like any and the look is different,

After all, there is something in him so dear to me.

Perhaps the images of mom, dad are dear,

Perhaps "Munojot" sounds in it, happiness, sorrow?


I don't know what I remember by heart

Fiery eyes looking into my eyes.

In which there is joy, there is also a little sadness,

Who are always very grateful to everyone.


In which charm and shame, love is reflected,

Ripples of smiles emerge from the depths of the heart.

They seem to be born for mercy:

They only look with love, they are not heartless.


In them I see the look of Khorezmi, or Navoi,

Do they have the look of Ulugbek, the sharp-sighted Temur?

I see Nadira's eyes in them. maybe Uvaysi,

Do they have the look of Alpamysh, the ancestor - Babur?


It has simplicity, naivety, dignity, honor,

And kindness in him, compassion, tolerance.

Mystery, obedience is also there,

There is thoughtfulness, anxiety, and anger.


Whose he was in the world - this warm garden of mine,

On the fire of which I warm myself peacefully.

I dream day and night my native Uzbek look,

When I meet you, I literally melt.




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