The Uzbek language is not poor, but those who call the Uzbek language poor are poor. Let them not turn their ignorance into Uzbek (Abdulla Qodiri).
ABOUT MOTHER TONGUE
Alisher Navoi UNDER THE TURKISH LANGUAGE
Because I found perfection in that word,
Turkish alphabet proverb d
In Turkish poetry, I draw,
I turned the country upside down…
* * *
I narrated in Turkish,
I told the story of this style;
Whose fame fills the world,
Let the Turks enjoy the mountain.
Because this is the day in the world
Many good taste, pure perception…
Abdulla Avloni HIFZI LISON
It is said that every nation should preserve its native language and literature. The mirror life of every nation that shows its existence in the world is its language and literature. To lose the national language is to lose the spirit of the nation. Hayhot! We Turkestans are forgetting and losing day by day, let alone preserving the national language. We lack Arabic and Persian connections to half of our language, and we are sticking Russian to one side. True, knowing the Russian language, which is our government, is something we need like soup and bread for our life and happiness. But it must be used and spoken in its place. Adding flaxseed oil and mixing it like a muskrat spoils the spirit of the tongue.
“Yohu! What happened to us? We went out of the way of our ancestors. Look for a bad house until you get it from a good neighbor. ” The sacred language and literature that our ancestors grew up with and created will never fail us. If we search and search for our own home, we will also find the lost ones. "It's a shame and a shame to wear a European hat and laugh," he said. It is said that the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said:
O mother tongue, my dear, Compliment my soul, my Merciful.
You've been around since I was born, Don't wake up until you die, my dear.
You taught me science and manners, Chinese writer, teacher, hon.
You lift up the spirit of the nation, O holy cabbage sultan.
It is necessary to preserve the common national language as well as the language between the private mouth. Because the word is a scale that measures a person's level and perfection, knowledge and phase. Wise people know the thoughts and intentions, knowledge and power, dignity and worth in a person’s heart from the words he utters. They say, "Dry words are not pleasing to the ear."
If the word is in accordance with reason and wisdom, and does not benefit itself or the hearer, a dry howl like a squawking among the bees is nothing but a headache. is not a thing. Many of the hardships that befall us come from our soft tongues. That is why they say, "Think more, speak less."
The best of languages is the language of the master of the word, the best of words is the word that is slaughtered knowingly and thoughtfully of the end.
Beauty is not on the face, brother. Everyone likes a sweet person.
Let your words be small and meaningful, Let the ears of those who hear be filled.
If you say silver, keep quiet gold, One day, if you have a lot to say.
Not to mention the increased word, It will be less than a lot of sugar.
Alikhantora Soguniy
ABOUT MOTHER TONGUE
Even if we are separated from our national power for the time being, we can save ourselves from being swallowed up by our enemies in the future if we can keep it separate from our national feelings. Now the first condition for achieving this goal is the language issue. If we expand our language literature, increase its value and bring it to the level of other cultural languages, then our nation and national feelings will continue to grow. If this is not the case, but, on the contrary, if they do not pay attention to their mother tongue without appreciating it, then they will soon say goodbye and be separated from their language forever.
Thus, separation from one's mother tongue is the result of the loss of national feelings. This is a great betrayal, an unforgivable crime in the eyes of the human world. This means that the great Turkestan nation, the Turanian dynasty, will, as the invaders wish, fall victim to the crisis, and, God forbid, the badges of honor in the pages of history will be erased.
Mirtemir MY MOTHER TONGUE
The infinity of the savages,
Both samumi and hovuri,
Mother of God,
From tears, from white milk;
Inequality of tugai,
The roaring of the valleys,
From the lament of the young men,
By default of oats -
Rolled tongue -
Mother tongue.
The time of the flood of the rivers
The lion's roar,
The blue comparison of the passes,
From the glare of the snowy mountains,
The reed house of the shepherds,
Ringing,
The alpine image of Gorogly,
From Alpomish's claim -
Native language -
Mother tongue.
The rage of the tulpars,
Stone bite, fire,
The golden word of the ancestors,
From the death of the painter:
Weaver's weeping,
The plumber's excitement,
This is a double bull of the soil,
The attachment is also out of reach -
Created language -
Mother tongue.
This land is lifeless
Tarlans, eagles,
Bridesmaids,
From the sound of the trumpets;
The invincibility of the invasions,
Grandmother's advice,
The sound of the drum,
From Dutor's Tension -
Common language -
Mother tongue.
Elbek TIL
My mournful bird, sing, sing, mean,
Who are the Turkish language sellers?
This language that sings like a nightingale
Shameless self-promotion for Ballistic Products and a great bargain on a neat little knife for you.
Bolday sweet, dear Turkish
Don’t get me wrong, you bastard?
My sad bird, leave them, you walk!
To the glory of the Turkish language!
Let them go astray,
Let them sell empty throat!
Erkin Vahidov
MOTHER TONGUE DOES NOT DIE
The speaker said:
"It 's destiny,
It is a global will.
Tongues disappear completely,
There will be one language left in the world. "
“O preacher, come down,
Where did this talk come from? ”
Navoi and Pushkin
He got up from the grave.
Who is angry,
Who wonders,
The series that came out:
Dante, Schiller and Byron,
Firdavsi, Balzac, Tagore.
"Stop preaching, brother,
What you said will not happen. "
All said fold:
"My mother tongue will not die."
"Hey, what a belief!" -
A holy cup in his hand,
About beautiful Persian
Rubaiyat said Khayyam.
Passionate, fiery
Beranje asked:
"It's a French language."
A time to be lost!
Neruda, Lorca stood up
Next to Cervantes:
"Who stabbed me?"
Mother tongue to life!
Fuzuli burned:
- Ozar
The tongue does not wither like a flower.
All said fold:
"The mother can't speak."
Rainbow-colored
Whether art, languages,
We have fought for centuries,
We have dreamed for thousands of years.
If it's worthless, isn't it?
Tarawat in languages!
Lost this day, life,
Pleasure in the graves!
"Faust" roared,
"Khamsa" caught fire.
An echo around the world
It spread, the mountains rose.
It still sounds,
It will never happen.
The world says:
Never
My mother tongue will not die!
Abdulla Oripov MY MOTHER TONGUE
The word nightingale for thousands of years
It does not change, the whole is always.
But the condition of the salty parrot
Imitation of others is always.
Mother tongue, you go, of course,
I put a nightingale song in the poem.
The day you disappeared, no doubt,
I'll be a parrot too!
Rauf Parfi TWO POEMS
UZBEK LANGUAGE
Hayhot, Arab and Mongol,
The chain year of your life,
What have you experienced, brave boy,
Uzbek language, Uzbek language.
I call on your great history,
The flower of Navoi's poem,
A living witness of the past,
Uzbek language, Uzbek language.
How much i love you mom
Oh, the nightingale of my heart
You've been singing since I was a baby,
Uzbek language, Uzbek language.
1958
MY MOTHER TONGUE
1. Abut-Turk is probably a wisdom from history
But you are in Turan.
Poet, you are not in a hurry to speak,
In the blessed language of the great Alisher.
It is a distant sun that burns and burns,
Distant memories are in the immortal sky.
Really, really, who knows?
The grip of worldly suffering is in the heart.
The cradle called Vatan, mother,
The door is closed for me, mother,
I snuggle up quietly.
In the coffin of the so-called homeland,
I look at the cloud like snow,
The claw of my soul is on the neck of lightning.
2. A broken soul that no one can endure,
He will never know the truth.
My hand, my mother tongue, the blood of my soul,
I ask you for help, mother.
The way of the scorpion is my way,
My body is burning with love,
My hands will touch the blues,
My feet are in my soil.
Everyone is equally restless in the beginning,
The dead wind of the Manchus, -
Twentieth Century Deeds…
My mother tongue, munis, kind,
You are the winner of the Turkish World -
I will write you, resurrected world.
3. My great Turkestan, golden fields,
The sun shines on the hair,
He will say in your tongue,
My blood, my mother tongue, oh, my mother people.
Roads similar to Navoi byte,
These stones are Hamza's killer, life!
Thoughts for a lifetime,
Do you remember if you were chained for life ?!
I am chained, my mother tongue to your mother,
I die every day, I pay like the moon,
I pull you like a mile into my eyes.
I am a stranger. I want a word,
I will put my head in your footsteps,
I would say holy anfosin.
1997 (1965)
Halima Khudoyberdieva WRITING IN "OLD UZBEK LANGUAGE"
My sharp tongue,
My cut tongue,
A huge dam fell,
Slice blocked.
Like a bird's forgetfulness
Forget the spill, my dear,
In the fold of books
The color is straw.
"Old Uzbek language"
They said the language is outdated,
Sas scared,
The language that goes into the boxes.
You smell like almonds,
You have the smell of my grandfather,
My child is neither Russian nor Uzbek,
There is an Arosat sign.
Five hundred years ago
I understand the letter, so
What I said today
My child sometimes doesn’t understand.
My chest heaved,
Great danger approaching,
He lost his language
Will the people repel from the ground.
Forward, mobilization
How are you baby
To the cliff behind
How does my child look.
Who made him,
Who was my brother,
My veins burned,
Cindy is my joint.
We have become a nation that forgets flowers,
We have become a nation of forgetfulness,
Mass silence occurs,
Forget the language, we became a nation.
To the evening of my life
With that thought in mind,
Into the "Turkish Dictionary"
My tears are dripping,
I said, "My sharp tongue."
My cut tongue.
February 1989, 14
Khurshid Davron MY MOTHER TONGUE
How many worlds have come,
Life laughed, death cried.
You were sacrificed grandparents,
They're gone, you're left, slice.
Kashgari on Belanchaging
An ancient melody was sung
And to the young leaves
Navoi gave his heart's blood.
When Bobur left Samarkand
The sound of sorrow in my heart,
He took her from his homeland,
Turkish language, only you.
Mashrabmas, you were hanged,
Nodiramas, you were slaughtered
Your tongue, O my tongue,
Your head is crooked, your eyes are carved.
But the hero killed by the enemy
Revenge again as if resurrected,
You go forever and are able forever
Sound the earth to fill.
Giving life for the motherland,
Fire crossed, entered the river,
Every blood shed by your children
You smirked like you.
Mother tongue, long live,
If you go, I won't die either,
If I lose my tongue, you are like Oybek
I speak with my eyes.
1982
Thanks for the sacrifice MY MOTHER TONGUE A poem
In front of my heart
My singing nightingale,
I can't open without you
My soul is free,
Mother tongue, soul tongue.
In the blood of an ancient ancestor
The world knows you,
In the dawn of humanity
Berding echoed from the heart.
You smoked as a picture
One by one in the caves:
"Mother plus child" is to love,
"Arrow of the heart" - patience.
Assyrian, Babylonian, Occupy
Development is a side,
One side was sunny -
The glory that the country embraces.
On the horizon of spirituality
Your name has become eternal.
To the Sumerians
Your tones have been uploaded.
Who is the stone
Indifferent not kicked,
But you do it
The man raised his head.
Like in the sea of consciousness
You rose like a golden wave.
The great Orkhon-Enasoy
You melted in his notes.
Shape is like a garment,
Times change.
Especially the invading beast
If dominates in the beginning.
Especially where he is
If you speak your own language,
If he is unknowingly angry
What you have is in the deal.
Forced to write his own
He puts it on your forehead,
Whispering in a foreign language
He sees the spectacle.
But the content is the essence
The governor erur form.
Arabic spelling neck
He bowed to the Turkish mind.
You are a child like Navoi
He was born this time.
He turned yellow for you,
Blood spattered sooner or later.
Flying between poems,
You hit the skies,
But longing for the soil,
Pinhona shed young.
Bow down to your neck
Seventy worlds bowed.
In the beautiful "Boburnoma"
Your foot touched the ground.
Earthquakes from this moment
It's all yours,
He asked the sky for happiness
Mashrab is a rebellious boy.
Another poet was needed
To your pulpit,
My mother tongue, the poet came out
He got up and went to bed.
You've seen stability for years,
You cried for a while.
Many have forgotten you
Continued in this calamity.
From the Tumtarak khanates
Extraordinary ignorance remained.
Who is wrong for many years
My people were counted.
Who says, "It's a mess."
My homeland passed easily. "
I say, “Fortunately,
My homeland has survived. "
Because - every word you say it
They were calling for the future.
Poetry is in the sky
Your stars were shining.
Yangrarding is in full swing
Yana hur da, yana shan.
But, as usual, they looked
I envy you too:
Gathered in a corner
Three or four tongues,
Per your children
How much trouble.
Someone carrying a book
It looked dangerous,
Such precious writings
He hid in the ground.
Your original poets
The people said they were the enemy,
They cursed, cursed,
They ate one by one.
They kill the poet,
An immortal word.
You survived again,
The blind eye of my people.
What a morning, Independence
The wind blows,
Former state status
How many languages are official.
Destiny on your forehead
Happiness is written.
Today you have the Qur'an
Karim, the hadith is printed.
I am also your glory
The pen that made the back.
How did i sing to you
The link to Elga is unique.
Coincidentally in many worlds,
One day I was a poet—
Your wisdom is for me,
Your mercy is for me.
If I can't, it's my fault,
I didn't love you, oh.
In both cases
I am faithful to you, but
Mother tongue, soul tongue.
Because I'm yours,
I'm the pleasure you feel,
The grief you burn,
Mother tongue, soul tongue.
You're crazy, you're crazy,
I am transient.
You are always spring
I am a momentary memory.
Mother tongue, soul tongue.
Without you I will die,
I'll be crazy.
I have seven children
I will be a stranger,
Mother tongue, soul tongue -
In front of my heart
My singing nightingale.
Muhammad Yusuf MY MOTHER TONGUE
Although I did not like those who were oppressed,
I didn't bother writing poetry.
I did not speak my own language,
When I remember, my heart is crushed,
Mother tongue, forgive me, mother tongue.
It was midnight when my mother hugged me and said,
I used to say that I had no freedom,
My wheat that suffocated the steamer,
My gold, my mines, my silks,
Mother tongue, forgive me, mother tongue.
For whom we were a Bedouin,
Uzbeks give blood to Uzbeks,
The Yassavis watched our blood,
The slice we found,
Mother tongue, forgive me, mother tongue.
Someone became a small nation, someone big,
Great Nation - Even without a Master,
We were on foot, we were on horseback,
When oppression passes, only oppression passes you,
Mother tongue, forgive me, mother tongue.
What silly poems to us if you don't,
They say that there is no language in this world,
Alishers, who gave your assessment,
My unquenchable flower in the net of my heart,
Mother tongue, forgive me, mother tongue.
At a glance, there are a thousand shades in each shevang
A thousand colors on every branch, on every fruit.
Qodiriylar, Cholponlar-u, Abdullolar,
The day of your return is the year I was born,
Mother tongue, O holy Mother tongue.
1981-91
Iroda Umarova
ONA TILIM
My mother tongue is my heart
A kindly scattered bell.
From my infancy to my ears
A melody absorbed by God.
The mother tongue is centuries old
My wrestler who won the fight.
How many ancestors, how many generations
My favorite Turkish language.
Mother tongue - the word wearing a doppia,
Always a new track-atlas.
Take a look at a bar,
Thousands upon thousands of edges.
Mother tongue - honey-flavored,
Nightingale, Muhabbatsheva.
I always move to my lips
Pronounce I love.
My mother tongue is my heart
A kindly scattered bell.
From my infancy to my ears
The melody absorbed by God…
