Paroles et traduction Sardor Mamadaliyev - 52 Vatandosh Hotirasiga

52 Vatandosh Hotirasiga

Ellik ikki bolang yondi daf Vatan.
Ey vox kulga qanday o′raysan kafan
Ona bo'l boshinga oq ro′moling yoq
Ota bo'l belingni bog'la jon vatan
Biri o′g′lonmidi kiyov bo'lmagan
Biri yigitmidi farzant kormagan
Endi yetim qolgan go′daklariningni
Otasi bo'l qalqoni bo′l jon Vatan.

Ellik ikki bolang yondi daf Vatan
Ey vox kulga qanday o'raysan kafan
Ona bo′l boshinga oq ro'moling yoq
Ota bo'l belingni bog′la jon Vatan
Ellik ikki o′g'londi yondi daf Vatan
Samolar zirrillar faryoddan
Darvoza ochildi to′g'ri jannatdan
Og′a bo'l yelkanga tobutlarni Ort
Singil bo′l faryod ayla jon Vatan
Ellik ikki o'g'lon ketti daf Vatan
Nogoh alangaga burkanganda tan
Kalima keltirib ulgirdimikan
O′zbekman deganning jon yuragidan
Ellik ikki qabir kovla jon Vatan
O′g'lonlaring ko′kka ketti daf Vatan
Biri o'g′lonmidi kiyov bo'lmagan
Biri yigitmidi farzant ko′rmagan
Endi yetim qolgan farzandlariningni
Otasi bo'l, qalqoni bo'l jon Vatan
O′g′lonlaring ko'kka ketti daf Vatan
Ellik ikki o′g'lon yondi daf Vatan...

In Memory of 52 Patriots

Fifty-two souls perished in the flames.
Oh, how could you possibly wrap a shroud around a moth?
Mother, cover your head with a white kerchief and weep.
Father, tie your warrior's belt, for your beloved country.
Among them were young men who never became grooms,
And brave warriors who never held their children in their arms.
Now orphaned, their little ones are left alone.
Be their father, be their shield, oh my cherished country.

Fifty-two souls perished in the flames,
Oh, how could you possibly wrap a shroud around a moth?
Mother, cover your head with a white kerchief and weep.
Father, tie your warrior's belt, for your beloved country.
Fifty-two young warriors perished in the flames,
The heavens tremble with their cries.
The gates of Paradise have opened for them,
Brother, carry their coffins upon your shoulders.
Sister, weep and cry out, oh my cherished country.
Fifty-two young warriors are gone.
As their bodies burst into flames,
Did they have time to utter the words of faith?
From the hearts of those who proudly say, "I am Uzbek."
Fifty-two graves to dig, oh my cherished country.
Your sons have ascended to the heavens.
Among them were young men who never became grooms,
And brave warriors who never held their children in their arms.
Now orphaned, their children are left alone.
Be their father, be their shield, oh my cherished country.
Your sons have ascended to the heavens.
Fifty-two young warriors perished in the flames...