London Uyghur Ensemble

Uyghurche ئۇيغۇرچە
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Uyghur poems (3)

Translated by Aziz Isa & Rachel Harris

Oh, Fathers !

Poet: Abdurehim Abdulla


All the poets talk of mother

Do you not remember your fathers?

They are such fathers

That even tigers might envy.

They are such fathers

That many beauties admired them

Sharp knives ready to strike

If any betrayer should appear.

Always wading through water in boots

They have seen much suffering and disaster

They have used horse´ s bits to drink from

Crossed every mountain and plain.

At the tips of their spears a bright star

On their swords dawn´ s flame

Their love for their country shields them from arrows

Under their feet waves of blood.

The slain lie in the desert

The sky wept down tears

Tamarind bushes welcomed them

Lions and tigers were their coffin bearers.

We are known as dancing youths

Oh, fathers martyred in war.

We are grateful for needles

And forget the arrows of battle

Epics are written for rifles

But the sword created the world.

When mother gave me bread from the oven

My father fought in battle to give me freedom

Mother gave me a cotton shirt

Father gave me his battle flag.

When I fell down mother cried

Father picked me up and put me back on my horse

He trained me well to withstand hardship

So as not to be abused by my enemies.

In the shade mother sings a lullaby

In mother´ s arms I close my eyes

Father sings in the threshing ground

Like a king who has captured a city.

Conscience is calling my father

Mother is worrying about the family

The people´ s desires form a volcano in my father

A river of tears, him in a boat.

He traces of a thousand youths´ labour

Is on each callous on his hands

My every smile an endless debt

To the knife and bow he carried.

I am known as a party boy

Oh, dear father martyr of battles.

Ah, Atilar !

Abdurehim Abdulla


Hemme shair ´anam´ la dedi,

Atiliri yoqmikin este.

Ular shundaq atilar idi,

Yolwasnimu qoyghan heweste.

Ular shundaq atilar idi,

Ni guzeller bolghanti sheyda.

Xenjer bolup qadilar idi,

Bolsa mel´un her jayda peyda.

Da´im otuk bilen su kechip,

Kordi ni-ni derdu balalar.

Hetta yugen bilen su ichip,

Kezmidimu taghu-dalalar.

Neyzisining uchida cholpan,

Qilichida tangning yalquni.

Weten ishqi oqlargha qalqan,

Ayighida qanning dolquni.

Talapet yep chollerde qalsa,

Asman yighlap tokmidimu yash.

Yulghunzarlar qoynigha alsa,

Shir-yolwaslar tawutqa qoldash.

Biz atalduq tansida yigit,

Ah, atilar jenglerde shehit.

Yingnilerge rehmet oquldi,

Jenggah bilen untuldi oqya.

Koseylerge dastan putuldi,

Qilich bilen yaraldi dunya.

Toqach berse anam tonurdin,

Erk bergen atam jenglerde.

Konglek berse anam matadin,

Bayraq berdi atam zeperde.

Men yiqilsam anam yighlidi,

Atam silkip mindurdi atqa.

Japalarda rasa tawlidi,

Xar qilmay dep yawlargha-yatqa.

Sayilerde anam elliyi,

Men quchaqta, kozum uyquda.

Xamanlarda atam lay-leyi,

Sheher alghan shahtek tuyghuda.

Chillap ketti atamni wijdan,

Anam qaldi oyning ghemide.

Elning ghemi atamda wolqan,

Yeshi derya, ozi kemide.

Ming yigitning himmet lerzi bar,

Qolidiki her bir qadaqta.

Her kulkemning putmes qerzi bar

U ishletken xenjer, sadaqta.

Men ataldim bezmide yigit,

Ah, jan atam jenglerde shehit.


Translated by Tughluk A. Osman


Uyghur Folk Song


I invited guests to my home,

Let them sit on soft blanket,

But now I can´t enter,

The house built by myself.

I respected the guests,

Become homeless myself,

No place left for me in the garden,

I stray in the desert.

I changed the desert to oasis,

Planty guests come for the harvest,

They broke the branches of trees,

Took the fruits away.

I invited guests to my home,

Let them sit on soft blanket,

Now the hold on the important spot,

Become our boss.


Uyghur xeliq naxshisi


Mehman bashlidim oyge,

Astigha selip korpe,

Amdi men kirelmidim,

Ozem yasighan oyge.

Mehmanni qilip izzet,

Oydin ayrilip qaldim,

Baghlardin orun tegmey,

Cholge kepiler saldim.

Chollerni qilsam bostan,

Mehmanlar tolup ketti,

Shehini zhirip qoymay,

Mewisini elip ketti.

Mehman bashlidim oyge,

Astigha selip korpe,

Ozi torge chiqiwelip,

Boldi hojayin bizge.


Translated by Tughluk A. Osman


Poet: Abdukerim Hujayov (1986)


I saw an statue standing in the park,

Covered by a cloak handed with a firearm,

I recognized him but he didn´t,

Because he stands on top while I was down.

We met each other in this spot long years ago,

With wide open welcome when we were grazing the cattle1.

Today he eats the walnut alone high above,

While I was sitting down watching him enjoy.

I still remember once he said we were inseparable,

Today what happened to this amnesia,

I am so regret for what I have done before,

My eyes were burning and my soul is full of sadness.

1. There is proverb in Uighur reads: We were close friends when we were grazing the cattle, but we seperated when we share the volnut.


Abdukerim Hujayov (1986 yili)


Bir heykel kordum baghda tik tenha,

Ustide yepinqa qolida yaraq,

Man uni tonattim tonmidi u,

Chunki u igizda men peste biraq,

Korushken iduq biz padda baqqanda1,

Del mushu meydanda echip keng quqaq,

Bogun bir ozi cheqiptu torge,

Men peste qaptimen chaqqanda yangaq.

Ayrilmas qoshmaq biz degini qeni,

Ejeba bolup qaptu bugun u tutqaq,

Ming epus ichide turimen qarap,

Kozumdin ot yandi konglumde piraq.

1. Temsil: Pada baqqanda dost iduq, Yangaq chaqqanda ayrilduq.

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