Munira Sultan
BIOGRAPHY
Munira Sultan (Eshonkulova Munira Rasulovna).
Munira Sultan was born on October 7, 1981, in Bekobod city, Tashkent region. In 1998, she graduated with honors from School No. 11 in Bekobod. From 1999 to 2001, she studied at the Bekobod Pedagogical College. For 23 years, she has been teaching the younger generation at School No. 45 in the Bekobod district. She is currently a 4th-year student at Gulistan State University. Munira is married and the mother of three children.
In October 2021, her first poetry collection, titled "You Are in My Heart", was published.
Her poems have been featured in various poetry collections, such as "Turon Taronalari", "Do‘rmon Durdonalari", "Nazm Ifori", "Barhayot Sohibqiron", and "Ganjiravon Yo‘llarida". They have also been published in magazines like "Saboq", "Targ‘ibotchi", "O‘zbekistonda Ta’lim", "Guliston", and "Gulxan". Her works have gained international recognition and have been printed in the UK ("The Works of Talented Uzbek Creators"), Germany ("Raven Cage"), the USA ("International Literature Language and Online Journal", "Women's Literature Magazine", "Friendship of People"), and India ("The Raft of Dreams"). Her poetry has appeared in Uzbek, Azerbaijani, Kazakh, Kyrgyz, and English in various prestigious newspapers and journals both in Uzbekistan and abroad.
Munira Sultan is the winner of several international online poetry competitions and a laureate of the republican creative youth contest dedicated to "Barhayot Sohibqiron". For her active participation in the international online competition organized under the slogan "Two Brothers—Soul Relatives" by the Kazakhstani organization "Qos Qanat Jas Daryndyqlardy Qoldaw Jäne Damu Qory", she was awarded the "For International Services" badge of honor. Additionally, she received the "ISTE'DOD" badge of honor as per the decision of the editorial board of "O‘zbekistonda Ta’lim".
Munira Sultan is a member of the "Do‘rmon Club" established under the Do‘rmon Creative House, a member of Kazakhstan's "Qos Qanat" organization, and a member of Italy’s "World Poets’ Solidarity" organization.
POEMS
MOTHERLAND...
Thousands of years later, everyone is still awake.
The wonderful soil where my navel blood was spilled,
"Sweet suffering" why is the coin trembling?
I miss you, Motherland!
Homeland, I miss you even far away,
I can't describe it, I write poetry,
Hearing your words, I will water my country,
My mother is hot from you, Mother is the place!
When I first step on your threshold,
My father was always like a mountain.
He prayed and observed every day, every moment,
My father wants to come from you, Father is the place!
Memories come alive in me again,
When I first opened my eyes,
Silence would be the governor in my world,
I want you in my blanket, Motherland!
Eucalyptus in the tracks of my cradle,
If my mother repeats her sweet prayers,
If the past season of my childhood returns again,
My baby is sick of you, Motherland!
I felt your music, Fatherland!!!
Munira Sultan
UZBEKISTAN—TASHKENT—BEKOBOD
WHO AM I?
Who am I?
Shall I tell you who I am?
I feel burning inside as if
hiding Alexander's secret*,
Days pass making my mind hurry;
Who I am, who I really am,
I am a well, suffering.
I am silent in the eyes of the righteous,
Awaiting the light with patience.
My desire is complete, my dream is complete,
Intention is impartial, imagination is an ocean.
Every night spent in prayer,
I will meet the morning.
I forgot all of my sadness
If they remember, so will I all the time.
This painful pen of mine,
I will take care even if the tip breaks.
*— A well with reeds that is said to have Alexander's horn.
Munira Sultan
UZBEKISTAN—TASHKENT—BEKOBOD
LONELY...
My thoughts were taken away by these "pains",
I am alone with them, I have no confidence.
The wards in the heart raised up a riot,
No comfort, not even fake joy.
A painful sigh lingers in my throat,
I can't even cry, not even tears.
Sorrows throw their stones at me,
Will it survive, a little heart?
Where are my feelings leaving me alone?
There was no encouragement, I was left alone.
My thoughts are hard, my heart has pain,
Flying to the skies, heartless.
I speak only with my secrets,
I planted a dream flower on the grave of my heart.
With my weak words in my heart,
I look up at the sky awaiting the light.
I didn't see the "light", it's all in the lost,
I couldn't calm down, even my patience
The heart says: "At least laugh in fake."
Even my value sheds tears for me.
Munira Sultan
UZBEKISTAN—TASHKENT—BEKOBOD
Translated by Mamanov Ozodjon
A second-year master's student at Westminster University in Uzbekistan.
