Poems of Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek

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


Erasers

The pencil cries beneath erasers’ hands,
A human breaks from pieces others planned.
Like falling tears it spills its fragile life,
Its years erased by erasers’ silent knife.

It does not speak, nor trembles it in pain,
They say that silence proves a soul is sane.
Each time it stares at misery once more,
The pencil scars the paper to the core.

The paper screams in bitterness and ache:
“Why do you scratch me so for your own sake?
I too shall end one day, consumed by flame,
And slowly taste the fire’s burning claim.”

The ruler whispers: “Pencil, do not cry,
I know your pain, I stand with you nearby.
Beside you always, shoulder close and tight,
I’ll be your help, your strength, your borrowed might.”

Alas, the pencil loves but one alone —
The eraser that erased itself, full-blown.
A thousand rulers could not ever mend
That crooked eraser — faithful till the end.

O humankind, why are you so ungrateful?
You hurt the one who feeds you, kind and fateful.
They too will pass, like erasers fade,
And slowly leave this world they once have made.

They give their hearts to silence, cold and deep,
Then all at once their tears begin to seep.
You say: sister, mother — yet you see
No woman’s pain, no strength, no dignity.

We never know the pencil’s precious worth,
Its lifetime too is fading on this earth.
By erasers’ bitter, sharpened edge,
It draws its life — no plea, no solemn pledge.

Its patience stands unmatched in all the land,
Too heavy even for a man to stand.
You say: father, brother — yet you sting
Like scorpions, cruel in everything.

Do not withhold sweet words upon your tongue,
Do not consume the life of anyone.
They too arrived here only once in time,
Into this strange, imperfect world of mine.

©®Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek



River Bank

Life’s roads are shorter than we ever know,
Blink of an eye — and years are gone, they flow.
Tell me, O man, why pride you proudly show?
Your final place is just two spans below.
Life is a shore — a shore with no sea,
Don’t lose yourself where waves should be.
Don’t waste the meaning time hands free,
This moment’s gold — don’t let it flee.
You blink once more — your youth is gone,
You turn around — those wild days won’t respond.
Don’t wait for sweet words from every tongue,
Don’t be a shore where no waves come.
Life moves fast, it never slows,
Like ticking hands that chase and close.
Know this truth before it’s flown:
Don’t live like land where no seas moan.


©®Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek