Poems for language holiday

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ONA TILIM / Iroda Umarova
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,
Bulbultalqin, 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…


MOTHER TONGUE / Muhammad Yusuf
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 without you,
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.


MOTHER TONGUE / Khurshid Davron
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 longing,
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
Shimirding to cocaine 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.


MOTHER TONGUE / Abdulla Oripov
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!


MOTHER TONGUE WILL NOT DIE / Erkin Vohidov
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,
Ferdowsi, 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 him?"
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 is worthless,
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!

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