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Respect to the teacher
I hold a pen in my hand for the first time,
The teacher taught me to write mother.
Give damage to my little heart,
He taught me to burn for the homeland, teacher
When Navoi taught the lesson,
He was brave and brave like Farhod, teacher.
It is said that they accused Qadiri and shot him.
He closed his fist painfully, teacher.
My teacher got a headache
Take the strands of my hair.
His tender eyes were left with light,
Give me the blacks of my eyes.
Forever in my teacher's tongue and heart,
Uzbek blood flows from the east.
A sweet feeling in my master's tongue,
That's why he laughs.
I sacrifice my life for the teacher,
He made me a scholar.
On the path of enlightenment, on the path of knowledge,
I wish I could live forever.
With a fake pen, with a fake tongue,
Do not say that the poem is finished in honor of the teacher.
Disciple Sarv with a pure heart,
The kind teacher just praised.
Muyassar Dzhurayeva, a high-class native language and literature teacher of secondary school No. 3 of Fergana district, Fergana region