Аъзам Обид

700_9432-copyАБИДОВ АЪЗАМ родился в 1974 году в Намангане. Поэт, переводчик, автор нескольких сборников на узбекском и английском языках, включая «Чудо на моей дороге», «Любовь течет в моей крови», и «Остров тревоги». Переводил узбекскую современную поэзию на английский язык («Мелодии Азии»). Участник международных писательских и культурных программ, семинаров и фестивалей в США, Германии, Франции, Австрии, России, Швеции, Колумбии, Казахстане, Вьетнаме, Армении, и Индии. Почетный член международной программы писателей Университета Айова в США.

AZAM ABIDOV, poet, translator, short short story writer, was born on November 8, 1974 in Namangan, city of flowers, Uzbekistan. He trained in philology. He has several books of poetry and translation to his credit. Literary scholars and readers have acclaimed his English translations from eminent voices of Uzbek poetry, Usmon Nosir and Chulpon, and contemporary Uzbek poetry. His Uzbek translations from English, American, Indian, French and other world classical and contemporary poetry have also been appreciated in Uzbekistan. One of the founders of the Creative Writing and Translation Club, Azam tries to become a bridge between world and Uzbek literature, widen the circle of young literary translators and encourage them to translate world literature into the Uzbek language and Uzbek literature into world languages. The most successful works by Azam Abidov are Tunes of Asia (English translation of contemporary Uzbek poetry), The Island of Anxiety (poems in Uzbek, English and Spanish), Dream of Lightsome Dawns, A Miracle Is On the Way and I Leave You in Complete Boredom (Uzbek translation of world poetry and fiction). He writes in both Uzbek and English. His poems and translations have appeared in numerous anthologies in Uzbekistan, India, France, Korea, Japan, Vietnam, and Colombia and in many web magazines. Azam’s awards include BBC World Uzbek Service’s award for free speech in Uzbekistan (2005), literary prizes of “Ulughbek” Foundation (1996, 2000); he was a winner of republican contest on Uzbek and Uzbek Literature (1995), winner of poetry contest “My first booklet” among young poets and writers (1990) and winner of the competition “Art Holiday” (1987-1988). Azam’s poems have been translated into Russian, Spanish, Assamese, Persian, Gujarati, Malayalam, Bulgarian, Turkish, Vietnamese, French and Hindi languages. He was a Creative Writing Fellow at the University of Iowa in the U.S. (2004) and attended poetry festivals, creative writing workshops and cultural events in India, U.S.A., Germany, Russia, Kazakhstan, Sweden, Austria, Netherlands, France, Vietnam, Turkey, Armenia and Colombia. In collaboration with Uzbek poet Bahrom Ruzimuhammad, Azam compiled two international poetry anthologies, Fish and Snake and The Language of the Birds, involving hundreds of contemporary poets from around the world. He is also a World Poetry Movement’s coordinator of poetry events in Uzbekistan, and one of the founders of Maysara literary and cultural club at the Yudakov Museum in Tashkent. Azam lives with his wife, journalist and poetess Nodira Abdullaeva and with his three sons in Tashkent, Uzbekistan.

Поэзия “Do Not Let Me Dream


Poems by Azam Abidov


Too long



strive to go to rich countries

send our husbands and wives

they do hard works

or sell themselves


The other people in the country

make luxurious weddings

for the sent money

and sing a song of happiness


We all work for government


The tongue of the government is too long.



I am clay


I am clay –

Liquid and weak.

I have neither tongue

Nor mouth, to speak.

Everyone likes

To make some figure

From me,

To make a shape.

I am clay –

Liquid and weak.

I always go

Through palms.

I leak…

I leak…


We will win


A jealous person

Take me in your team –

We will win!


A Reading woman


A woman’s sitting in a slum

The slum is in a dump.

As she gets the hump:

The woman is reading.


It is dark in the dump,

There is a dim light

Inside the slum.


The woman is reading

Under the wan candlelight.


Her hope from life is dim, dim…

The reading woman

of my dream!




My dear fellow,
Let’s become a taxi driver.
People will tell us true stories
Of their own lives and the country.
Will you tell your mind and heart
To open wider for change?
Ask yourself
if you not have a conflict
With rulers, environment
And your ego.
Let’s come together and closer
To bear a beautiful discrepancy,
To build a life position.
Let me get rid of fantasy.
Or let me reword:
Do I still need to be imprisoned
To get an award?





Did you see the moon trembled?

A leaf fell down the tree.

I believed you could become a bridge

Between me and the universe.

I’m not colorful

And I know

I have bright rights written on the leaf.

But let me ask:

What would you discuss

Under the moonlight

On the bridge

On a peaceful day

With a dictator,



Earnest lover


Tolerance is to follow dreams allowing,

A blessing wants to come back soon again.

Stone City, your heart is mild and loving,

Have more strength and zeal to entertain.

Kindliness, charisma and good inning

Engraved in your nature will hang over –

No matter what you do for his life’s meaning

Takes to arms Azam, an earnest lover.



Be a skillful finder, my sad lot –
While you have a moving helping hand.
No happy life – for sure – could be bought,
Your misfortune – no one – could amend.

Be a skillful finder, my sad lot,
Open wider your wise-looking eyes.
Put my blessings to your heart a lot,
Don’t take my hurt before demise.


I will find a beloved


Night falls and my soul worries,
Hey, miracle, please show your face,
My exhausted feelings are confused,
I am poor, I am alone.

My eyes, please cry bitter tears,
You may become blind; it is alright for me,
There is no room on this earth for me,
Will the sky take me to its bosom?

Hey, Moon, do not hurt my heart
Do not hide yourself behind the night
Please be a window
To the country of miracles.

Through the lights of stars
I will reach to you
And when I go further
I will not become a man from the earth.

I will find a beloved there
The purest and the cleanest
I will give her a name – Faithful,
Her surname will be – Miracle.

Night falls, and my heart hurts…


Do not let me dream


Do not let me dream, my dear fellow,
Do not help me when I faint away.
Those past years have made me mellow.
Let me please inspire your intentions,
I kindly ask to let my hands aid
What you need, take, do not be afraid…
Feathers of my wish I start to trim –
To let others have a long, long dream.



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