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Khamza Khakimzade Niyazi |
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Make haste,
dear sisters, and rejoice,
Take part in glee that all the women voice.
Come, fling the hideous
veil into the flames
To make this world a warmer, brighter place,
To celebrate the State
that set us free at last
So let us join our hands and freely sing and dance.
We feel, as if we were
the lightest birds on wings.
The nightingale is back. It is for us he sings.
The merry piper, too, has
brought his magic flute
To feast and play for us and sing our freedom's youth.
We are but flowers shy
behind a garden wall.
Oh, how our beauty shines when it is seen by all!
Along the happy road we
march in joyous throngs,
Freed by the State and free of all the former wrongs.
We, chattel, mute and
dumb, the harassed, the oppressed,
Are now peers to men,we are with freedom blessed.
And our time has come.
Our captors cast away,
They will no longer mar the brightness of our day.
And let no husband try to
bar the iron door:
Today we're free to leave. The chains exist no more.
To spite all jealous men,
of whom a lot remain,
Our proud beauty glows--it's time they thought again.
If ever we be soiled by
some immodest glance,
We shall avenge ourselves, for we are free at last.
Our freedom is our spring
and we its flowers bright.
So hasten,join the ring, take part in our delight.
We wish to give the world
a blossoming of arts
And knowledge is our goal-there are no better paths.
It's our aim to grasp the
wisdom born of science
To make our bliss expand and last forever thence.
Lift up your eyes: you
are a human being--
The waking dawn's ablaze with your triumphant feeling.
Published: A New Life Begun: Prose Poetry and Essays of the 1920s-1930s, Progress Publishers, 1987.
A Parable
A Man once had four sons
in all.
One day their Auntie came to call.
She spent the night, but when she woke
Her money vanished - she was broke.
She turned their pockets inside out
But none confessed the theft. No doubt
The father was distressed and said:
"I'll try another way instead."
In a cellar dark he locked the boys
And told them: "There's no other choice,
The culprit's cheeks will whiten here
While others will be black with smear.
And long as he may stay below
The thief won't hide his guilt - we'll know."
He left the boys next to the coal.
The eldest boy (the one who stole)
Made note of that. He reasoned thus:
"I'll blacken cheeks and make no fuss."
The other boys - their conscience clean,
Made no attempt to use this scheme.
The time lapsed - the boys went up
To where the elders sat to sup.
And as they blinked to open light
The father saw that he was right.
The little brothers - cheeks so white.
The eldest brother's - black from fright.
The boy broke out in tears of shame
And bent his head to take the blame.
Since then he lived the righteous way,
His conscience never went astray.
The MORAL'S clear: the ones who steal
Will always dirty cheeks reveal.
Translated: Artyom & Denis Feodorov with help from their mother.
[Note: Khamza Khakimzade Niyazi (1889-1929) was the founder of Uzbek Soviet literature. A poet and playwright, Niayzi wrote a collection of poems after the Revolution, which were imbued with the pathos of the revolutionary struggle (The Fragrant Rose, 1919), and a number of plays, including The Bai and the Hired Hand (1918), Maisara's Tricks (1926) and The Secrets of the Veil (1927). In his work the author described the awakening class consciousness of Uzbek working people.
Khamza also dealt with the liberation of women in the East and called for their active participation in all spheres of the life of society: "The Song of Free Women", "Today Is March 8", "On the Death of Tursunai" and others.]
killed by islamist fundamentalists
ШКОЛЬНИЦА
В НАШЕМ КЛАССЕ
ЕСТЬ МАЛЬЧИШКА ,
КРАСИВ КАК АЛАЯ ЗАРЯ
С УМА ОН СВОДИТ
ВСЕХ ДЕВЧОНОК
И ВОТ ДОБРАЛСЯ ДО МЕНЯ.
ОТ КРАСОТЫ ТАКОЙ
СМУТИЛСЯ РАЗУМ МОЙ
ВЛЮБИЛАСЬ В ПЕРВЫЙ РАЗ
Я В СИНЕВУ ЕГО ГЛАЗ.
А ОН СО МНОЙ СИДИТ
НЕУЛЫБАЕТСЯ МНЕ,
КАК СОСЕДКЕ СВОЕЙ.
Я ЦЕЛЫЙ МЕСЯЦ ПРОБАЛЕЛА
НЕУВИДАВШИ МИЛЫХ ГЛАЗ
В КОНЦЕ НЕДЕЛЕ
Я НЕСМЕЛО
СТУПИЛА В СВОЙ
ЗНАКОМЫЙ КЛАСС.
ОН У ДОСКИ СТОЯЛ
И ЧТО-ТО ОН ПИСАЛ
УВИДЕВ ВЫРОНИЛ ОН МЕЛ
И ПОЧЕМУ-ТО ПОКРАСНЕЛ.
Я В КЛАСС ЗАШЛА
ЗА ПАРТУ СЕЛА
ЕЩЁ ОН ДОЛГО
КРАССНЫМ БЫЛ.
В КОНЦЕ УРОКА
ОН НЕСМЕЛО,ЗАПИСКУ
В РУКУ ПОЛОЖИЛ
В ЗАПИСКЕ ТОЙ ПИСАЛ:
ТЕБЯ Я ДОЛГО ЖДАЛ,
ТЕБЯ Я ТАК ЛЮБЛЮ
И ЧУВСТВА НЕЖНЫЕ ХРАНЮ
МНЕ БЕЗ ТЕБЯ НЕ ЖИТЬ,
ТЕБЯ Я ТАК ЛЮБЛЮ
И НЕЖНЫЙ ВЗОР
Я ТВОЙ ЛОВЛЮ.
