Aziza Xasanova - Poetry

 

Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek qizi. Born on October 1, 2004 in Chirchik, Tashkent Region. Currently a student at Tashkent University of Economics and Pedagogy. On March 1, 2025, she received the title of "Faculty Zulfiya" in a competition held by the university. She has published several scientific articles.Her poems and stories have been published in many newspapers, magazines, and websites around the world. Her poems, stories, and works are constantly published in countries such as Albania, Pakistan, Italy, America, Great Britain, Germany, India, Argentina, Turkey, Arabia and Uzbekistan, Kenya, Africa, Korea,Bangladesh

1)Life

You’ve changed me,

My eyes like dark coffee.

Youth has risen in me,

And pains have poured heavily.

Why are you so bitter,

Even pepper feels shy?

At times, a sweet prick you are,

Even angels hang their heads high.

Life, tell me, why are you

Never gentle, never plain?

Why push so hard

A girl so pure, so vain?

Life — you’ve changed me,

Taught me how to endure.

Facing betrayal without a smile,

Taught me strength that’s sure.

Giving left to enemies,

Losing friends along the way.

And in the end, you’ve taught me

How to grow and stand someday.

 ....

2)Pride

To the ignorant — pride, to the wise — a friend,

From dust I came, a straw that bends.

I too in this world am just a man,

To the grave I go — a nameless one.

Do not be proud, O passing soul,

You too are born — your name is a role.

Your body betrays, stays behind,

Your spirit roams — unheard, unkind.

You are a guest, and I am the same,

Our leaving is sure, our end’s the same.

The place is known, a poor man’s span,

Death is certain — an ordinary man.

......

3)The Mountains Are Calling Me

The mountains call me to their wide embrace,

My heart longs always for that distant place.

With pride they stand, far off yet standing tall,

They call me softly, like a mother’s call.

Their nature’s beauty — like the Alpine view,

My homeland’s mountains, proud and fair and true.

Chimgan, Chorvoq, Amirsoy stand near,

Three brothers strong, in winter or in year.

In every season, friends invite me there,

Their hearts are wide, so open, warm, and fair.

From all the world the travelers arrive,

Drawn by these mountains, noble and alive.

One day when tired, surely I will go,

Away from noisy streets and city flow.

......

4)True Wealth

I recently heard a strange belief:

That wealth controls all things in life.

Then why do we still need good health,

If love itself could be bought with price?

Why do we need a gentle word?

Why do we age if riches stay?

With money, grief and sorrow grow,

And wealth itself will fade away.

A coffin needs no cloth of gold.

The greatest wealth was Solomon’s,

Yet still he lived a simple man.

The greatest gift our Lord has given

Is health, is faith, is trust in Him.

True love is never sold for gold,

Nor parents — blessings pure and rare.

A true-born brother won’t be bought,

Though cowards strike from everywhere.

You cannot buy your faith or soul,

Your trust, belief, or chance to rise.

Your health is wealth beyond all price —

Once lost, it never comes back twice.

Yes, growing rich is everyone’s dream,

Yet no wealth greater than family.

The world’s reward will never last —

Remember this: we’re travelers all,

With tickets bought and certain ends.

The shroud has neither strings nor knots —

The final stop asks nothing more.

Death never asks you for your leave,

Your wealth means nothing at its door.

It spits on gold and silver bright,

And comes with scales of faith alone,

Azrael walking slow and sure.

So value every soul in time,

For loss brings no return at all.

A billion coins are meaningless

If one reunion fills the heart.

.......

5)That Day We Stayed Unspoken

That day we stayed unspoken, still,

The ache slipped softly from our will.

We both were drained, yet in our eyes

Unfading stars refused to die.

Is saying sorry truly hard?

The years had pulled our worlds apart.

Is standing once as one so wrong,

Without another break so strong?

That day we stayed unspoken, there.

The final word was mine alone to bear.

Not goodbye — in a gentle tone,

I whispered Al-fida, then went alone.

That day we stayed unspoken, friend.

Is love not where all friendships end?

No start it knows, no final line —

My friend, is loving such a crime?

That day we stayed unspoken, torn,

Our chests laid bare to grief and scorn.

The sky was far, the earth was stone,

And pain passed through our hearts and bones.

Years went by — we met once more.

It truly felt like closed the door.

Yet from a point we never knew,

My Lord said softly, “Be anew