The Uzbek-Ibrahimova Durdona


The Uzbek

He does not know what work is

He wakes up in the morning as a child

The disease does not know why 

An Uzbek lives only for children.

An Uzbek goes to the fields in the morning

The gloom of winter is to be taken in summer

An Uzbek lives only for children

So that my child is not less than others.

Even when his hands are blistered

Even when his hair is white

Even when the sun hits his head

An Uzbek lives only for children.

He wears torn pants, old shirts

Lek made his child.

There is no food, even when he is hungry 

He only fed his child.

He always lives as a child

He goes to the field sooner or later

Even if it is sick, always without notice

An Uzbek lives only for children.