A flock has come back.
In the steppe there is a fire,
A shepherd is lying down near it.
He takes bread out of his bag with strong desire…
The sun went down with its oppressive heat.
The honest food
Of shepherd,
The honest food!
The ewes has been milked,
The lambs are nearby.
The doors were shut by obscurity of night.
The shiny eyes of hunting gorge are very high,
A blackened jug is boiling on the right.
The honest food
Of shepherd,
The honest food!
The spring gives water,
The rocky hill - the stone.
The bread of hard work tastes as sweet as honey.
In the sky the new moon tends a herd alone,
The starry sheep are taking a long journey.
The honest food
Of shepherd,
The honest food!
(перевод с узбекского языка,
стихотворение «Oshi halol» народного поэта и переводчика Узбекистана Рустама Мусурмана)