Grasshoppers chirp with a loud voice
As if Tashkent is being boiled in bowl.
There, far away, with seductive look
Some prostitutes are smoking cigarette.

Cars are flooding in the magistral
They pause a little without any aim.
From Nexia up to Nissan you may see
Smoke of cigarette is swallowed by fate.

Returning from work, hurrying to home
People are on the road whose shoulders in pain.
They think about sorrows and life problems
However, all their thinking is in vain.

Somewhere an infant is crying nonstop
Maybe he was also abandoned by someone.
Maybe his mother now holding a cup of wine
Sharing her kisses to another man.

Someone is crying and praying for God
Hoping that Almighty will hear his words.
Maybe it is the very day written by his fate
In which all his sins will be forgiven.

Something broke down accidentally
The life of complaint came to its end.
Night, why your embrace is full of sadness?
I thank God that I have reached the dawn.


You may rain,
Wash this dirty world,
Wash the street of hatred,
Street of envy,
And the evil of our souls.
You may rain,
Let the earth be clear,
Let the tulips blossom in the embrace of hatred,
Never let children to cry in pain,
And wash the hands of ugliness,
Wash the throat of those whose tongue is poisonous,
Expel the odds to the middle of nowhere,
So that they understand who they are.
May the world be beautiful,
May it be full of fragrance.
May stars never fade in the sky,
Come with hope in every drop,
Actually, peace is the greatest joy.
Oh, my rain,
Rain nonstop.


Never ask me, please, who am I myself
Myself is a couple of verses on paper.
My self will save myself, and I hope
For those who left me it is bad news.
Myself is different, differs from me,
Far away from those who are so selfish,
May myself is not visible for everyone,
But myself will never abandon myself.
One day I will go shaking my hand to all,
From the arenas which disappointed me.
I will tear the dress of arrogance myself
Then I will throw it from mountain.
A moment, only a moment is enough
When myself starts a rebel inside me.
I do not wait for a clap from hands,
For me being myself is the greatest honor.
I am never afraid of foxes, no, no,
Even any jury cannot threaten me.
I am so proud of being myself,
I am thankful of God for being me.
Never ask me, please, who am I,
Rather read my poems, read my verses.

Zahro Shamsiyya (Zukhro Sharipova)

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