{"id":2122,"date":"2023-05-21T18:32:00","date_gmt":"2023-05-21T18:32:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/?page_id=2122"},"modified":"2023-05-21T18:47:40","modified_gmt":"2023-05-21T18:47:40","slug":"%d1%81%d0%b0%d1%82%d1%82%d0%b0%d1%80-%d1%81%d0%b0%d0%b4%d1%8b%d0%ba%d1%83%d0%bb%d1%8b","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/%d1%81%d0%b0%d1%82%d1%82%d0%b0%d1%80-%d1%81%d0%b0%d0%b4%d1%8b%d0%ba%d1%83%d0%bb%d1%8b\/","title":{"rendered":"\u0421\u0430\u0442\u0442\u0430\u0440 \u0421\u0430\u0434\u044b\u043a\u0443\u043b\u044b"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\"\"\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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\u0421\u0442\u0440\u0430\u043d\u0430: \u041a\u0430\u0437\u0430\u0445\u0441\u0442\u0430\u043d<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

\u041f\u043e\u044d\u0437\u0438\u0435\u0439 \u0438 \u043c\u0443\u0437\u044b\u043a\u043e\u0439 \u0437\u0430\u043d\u0438\u043c\u0430\u044e\u0441\u044c \u0441 \u0434\u0432\u0435\u043d\u0430\u0434\u0446\u0430\u0442\u0438, \u0430 \u043f\u0440\u043e\u0437\u043e\u0439 \u0441 \u0434\u0432\u0430\u0434\u0446\u0430\u0442\u0438 \u043f\u044f\u0442\u0438 \u043b\u0435\u0442.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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Country: Kazakhstan<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

I’ve been composing poetry and music since I was twelve, and writing prose since I was twenty.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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\u041e\u0442\u0440\u044b\u0432\u043e\u043a \u0438\u0437 \u043f\u043e\u044d\u0437\u0438\u0438 \u201cI\u2019ll live this life as a Kazakh!<\/em><\/b>\u201d<\/em><\/b><\/span><\/p>

KAZAKH<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

A Kazakh is a conscientious deep thinker,<\/span><\/p>

A Kazakh possesses eloquence in speech,<\/span><\/p>

The people teach honesty for future generations,<\/span><\/p>

A lullaby by the crib they sing and they teach.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The Kazakh is a hero, a bulwark from the flood,<\/span><\/p>

Defending many foes from his land.<\/span><\/p>

Fighting until the last drop of blood,<\/span><\/p>

Even if worn out, he\u2019ll still take a stand.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Kazakh is honest, a advocate of truth,<\/span><\/p>

Never afraid to anger a khan or king!<\/span><\/p>

If even one word of veracity comes through,<\/span><\/p>

Hearing out even what a sworn enemy may bring.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Kazakh is vigorous, cheerful from birth,<\/span><\/p>

Merry making to forget sorrows, shortly at least.<\/span><\/p>

Racing horses, playing kokpar, fun and mirth,<\/span><\/p>

A real Kazakh never missed a party, a feast!<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And at the feasts, the orators speak,<\/span><\/p>

Strongmen wrestle, testing fate.<\/span><\/p>

The poets praise the nation\u2019s peaks,<\/span><\/p>

Or else sit and complain, debate.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The wisemen\u2019s stories are flowing,<\/span><\/p>

The singers\u2019 songs are rolling,<\/span><\/p>

Their stories bringing out tears pouring,<\/span><\/p>

To the delight of those strolling.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

But Kazakhs are nomads from birth.<\/span><\/p>

Looking into the distance of the earth.<\/span><\/p>

As an eagle teaches its fledglings what\u2019s best,<\/span><\/p>

Perseverance is explained in the nest!<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Kazakhs know his land, honouring its steppes,<\/span><\/p>

Teaching kids to love their country without any preps,<\/span><\/p>

For the ancestral home he always gave with pride,<\/span><\/p>

His strength, his mind,<\/span><\/p>

his consciousness and never subside.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

A Kazakh girl of the steppe is a flower on hill,<\/span><\/p>

Her beauty and grace, the nightingale’s trill,<\/span><\/p>

Her honor and chastity, she holds dear,<\/span><\/p>

A symbol of love, pure and sincere!<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Each generation is the beginning of my people,<\/span><\/p>

The backbone of my ancestors, sturdy and ample,<\/span><\/p>

Each boy and girl is from a noble land,<\/span><\/p>

A fragment of pure gold, shining bright and grand.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

For the Kazakh, the ancestors set a clear path,<\/span><\/p>

A medicine for future generations, a legacy to surpass,<\/span><\/p>

«Don’t change,» they said, «stay true to your fathers\u2019 way!»<\/span><\/p>

With open hands, blessing his child, not to stray.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Such is the path left by the ancestors,<\/span><\/p>

Kazakh is fortune to be chosen as their successor!<\/span><\/p>

The blue flag of INDEPENDENCE<\/strong> flutters high,<\/span><\/p>

His heart full of freedom and song, a joyous cry.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Centuries of mourning through the clouds breach,<\/span><\/p>

From the steppes to the stars, is the Kazakh’s reach!<\/span><\/p>

The whole world is in awe, recognizing the truth —<\/span><\/p>

I will always write immortal songs about you!<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

A PEOPLE WHO VALUED WORDS <\/strong><\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Longing for youth, a time of truth,<\/span><\/p>

Merry and full of feelings, that’s the proof.<\/span><\/p>

Serving elders, a noble deed,<\/span><\/p>

Their wisdom unmatched, just what we need.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

They\u2019d sit like mountains, grand and elegant,<\/span><\/p>

Striking at truth, like eagles valiant!<\/span><\/p>

Full of wisdom like Bactrian camels,<\/span><\/p>

I remeber every story they channeled.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Gathered around the fire, they reminisce,<\/span><\/p>

Sharing tales of the glory of their homeland.<\/span><\/p>

Their speech sweet as honey from the hive,<\/span><\/p>

Their words fill the air with charm.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The old dames, keeping up with their men,<\/span><\/p>

Grandchildren by their side, oh what a blend!<\/span><\/p>

Grateful and warm, preparing feasts so fine,<\/span><\/p>

Making qurt and cheese from butter divine..<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The youth listen intently, without interuption,<\/span><\/p>

They respect and learn from their elders.<\/span><\/p>

Passing through the half-light of the night,<\/span><\/p>

Their words resonate, never fading away.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

On this day, people mourn the time,<\/span><\/p>

Yearning to hear words that were once sublime.<\/span><\/p>

Only a few remain, passionate and true,<\/span><\/p>

Losing them breaks my heart, through and through.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

To whom shall I give my experiences, whom shall I tell?!<\/span><\/p>

No one has time, everyone’s under a spell!<\/span><\/p>

The younglings speak their mind, oh so straight,<\/span><\/p>

Yet the deeper meaning, they fail to contemplate.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Speaking with sincerity, recognizing bravery in action,<\/span><\/p>

Words were once held dear, now just a fraction.<\/span><\/p>

It seems like we need nothing, a nonchalant fling,<\/span><\/p>

Having consumed the soul of true talent, oh what a thing!<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

WHO AM I<\/strong>?!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

«Who are you?.. Why?..»<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 countless questions in my mind,<\/span><\/p>

I keep wandering yet no answers I find.<\/span><\/p>

My thoughts, my calculations, my fantasies blunder,<\/span><\/p>

Weak and weary, I restlessly ponder.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

«Why do you chirp and cry for no reason?»<\/span><\/p>

Some ask, without any true comprehension.<\/span><\/p>

But as for me, my broken heart, in need of mending,<\/span><\/p>

Requires constant care and attending.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Those who trample honor, guilt,<\/span><\/p>

Think they’re smarter, with their pride built.<\/span><\/p>

«Just what are you looking for, tough guy?!»<\/span><\/p>

The mocking shattered my dreams, oh my!<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

You’re not celebrating with your kin,<\/span><\/p>

Ignoring spouse and children, it’s a sin,<\/span><\/p>

«What have you done?» someone asked with strife,<\/span><\/p>

«Poor thing, till you’re food for dogs and birds, your life.»<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I’ve spread the \u201cHistory of the native land!\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Cursed fools for \u201cruining language, it’s out of hand,\u201d<\/span><\/p>

My heart in patches, almost stopped,<\/span><\/p>

As I witnessed the damage they have wrought.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

What use is my history, language, and art<\/span><\/p>

For those who care only for profit and their part?<\/span><\/p>

Why would scoundrels covet these treasures?<\/span><\/p>

If they rob and sell our country, by any measures.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Do they understand the value of anything at all?<\/span><\/p>

Shouldn’t our heritage pass to the next in line to call?<\/span><\/p>

Will these foolish folks ever comprehend,<\/span><\/p>

The true worth of a «national treasure,» that we must defend?<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

When I ponder on it, my bones quake, tears start to flow,<\/span><\/p>

Time erases our history, making it fade and go,<\/span><\/p>

Passing by without meaning, leaving us in despair,<\/span><\/p>

Our legacy and heritage disappearing into thin air.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

My land, once fertile, now worn out and bare,<\/span><\/p>

My descendants have left, leaving me in despair,<\/span><\/p>

Humanity seems lost, and respect for my people is gone,<\/span><\/p>

I ask myself, «Who am I?» and sit to ponder on.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

What am I to do? I ask, trying to console my soul,<\/span><\/p>

Feeling helpless in the fight, with no way to control,<\/span><\/p>

But I know that someday, my descendants will be free,<\/span><\/p>

And they’ll search for our memory, with hopeful glee….<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

BRUSH IT OFF, KAZAKH!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>

(One month after the <\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>

December Uprising of 1986)<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>

My poetry’s not truly mine,<\/span><\/p>

I feel the poet’s thought entwine,<\/span><\/p>

To delve into my people’s lore,<\/span><\/p>

But sadness fills my chest once more.!<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Who’ll hear my sorrow, day and night?<\/span><\/p>

My Kazakh, burdened with plight.<\/span><\/p>

For centuries, a time of woe,<\/span><\/p>

Heavy is the weight you know.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Each time I read our history book,<\/span><\/p>

Your glory shines, in every nook.<\/span><\/p>

My eyes grow misty, as I sigh,<\/span><\/p>

«Let your grief be mine,» I cry.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

At every dawn, my Kazakh kin,<\/span><\/p>

Long for a day where joy can begin.<\/span><\/p>

Weary and tired, you pray and plead,<\/span><\/p>

«Begging, O Creator, free me of this need!»<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

You didn’t distinguish ‘tween white or red,<\/span><\/p>

Just seeking food to fill your homestead.<\/span><\/p>

«The party’s path» you chose in vain,<\/span><\/p>

Made Mankurt[1]<\/sup><\/a> of your daughter and son’s name.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

\u201cPut aside subsistence and foot-dragging pace,<\/span><\/p>

Focus on the country, if you’re a brave race.<\/span><\/p>

Take hold of your sons, who’ve forgotten their pride,<\/span><\/p>

And in your own hands, let their honor reside.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Unity is key for community and conscience,<\/span><\/p>

Beware the villain’s deceitful nonsense.\u201d<\/span><\/p>

Wise and generous, the forefathers’ plea,<\/span><\/p>

To stand together and stay free.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Hustle and bustle, life flew by,<\/span><\/p>

No chance to wake, none to pry.<\/span><\/p>

What kind of soul in lives so fast?<\/span><\/p>

What empty vessels, devoid of past?!<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Out the door, «Barefoot» you go,<\/span><\/p>

Giving a throne, not asking for dough.<\/span><\/p>

But take heed of this wise old quote,<\/span><\/p>

The dog you feed may turn and smote.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

The slime commands «attack!», throws a bone,<\/span><\/p>

And you destroys the good ones, leaving none alone.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>

Like a whimpering dog, unable to lead,<\/span><\/p>

Can’t find a brave man to fulfill the need.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Where are Ahmet, Alikhan, Mustafa Shokai,<\/span><\/p>

Mirzhakip, the wise ones, now in the sky?<\/span><\/p>

Didn\u2019t you set them in a trap, my friend?<\/span><\/p>

Who approved this, where does it all end?<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

You didn’t see the worth in your star,<\/span><\/p>

And traded them in like they weren’t up to par.<\/span><\/p>

All for the sake of a petty career,<\/span><\/p>

You caused the loss of lives held dear.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

You failed to match the greatness they had,<\/span><\/p>

Now you’re left feeling low and sad.<\/span><\/p>

Your fate is to be food for dogs and birds,<\/span><\/p>

A harsh lesson learned from those words.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I’ll tell you straight, my friend, wake up!<\/span><\/p>

Raise your head and brush yourself off!<\/span><\/p>

Regain your pride, let it be your shield,<\/span><\/p>

No enemy can take you if it’s your will.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Why cling to empty fantasies?<\/span><\/p>

Don’t be a wreck, educate with ease.<\/span><\/p>

Teach the nation, the next generation,<\/span><\/p>

Break the walls of the villain with dedication.<\/span><\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

When will you let your dignity arise?!<\/span><\/p>

When will my people assemble, be wise?!<\/span><\/p>

Unity is a powerful prize,<\/span><\/p>

And oppression will meet its demise!\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/strong><\/span><\/p>

[1]<\/em><\/strong><\/a> Mankurt is the term for an unthinking slave in Chinghiz Aitmatov’s novel The Day Lasts More Than a Hundred Years.<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u0421\u0442\u0440\u0430\u043d\u0430: \u041a\u0430\u0437\u0430\u0445\u0441\u0442\u0430\u043d \u041f\u043e\u044d\u0437\u0438\u0435\u0439 \u0438 \u043c\u0443\u0437\u044b\u043a\u043e\u0439 \u0437\u0430\u043d\u0438\u043c\u0430\u044e\u0441\u044c \u0441 \u0434\u0432\u0435\u043d\u0430\u0434\u0446\u0430\u0442\u0438, \u0430 \u043f\u0440\u043e\u0437\u043e\u0439 \u0441 \u0434\u0432\u0430\u0434\u0446\u0430\u0442\u0438 \u043f\u044f\u0442\u0438 \u043b\u0435\u0442. Country: Kazakhstan I’ve been composing poetry and music since I was twelve, and writing prose since I was twenty. \u041e\u0442\u0440\u044b\u0432\u043e\u043a \u0438\u0437 \u043f\u043e\u044d\u0437\u0438\u0438 \u201cI\u2019ll live this life as a Kazakh!\u201d KAZAKH \u00a0 A Kazakh is a conscientious deep thinker, A Kazakh possesses … <\/p>\n

\u0427\u0438\u0442\u0430\u0442\u044c \u0434\u0430\u043b\u0435\u0435 «\u0421\u0430\u0442\u0442\u0430\u0440 \u0421\u0430\u0434\u044b\u043a\u0443\u043b\u044b»<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"bgseo_title":"","bgseo_description":"","bgseo_robots_index":"","bgseo_robots_follow":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2122","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2122","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2122"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2122\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2128,"href":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2122\/revisions\/2128"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ru.thevoicesoffriends.com\/vof\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2122"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}