Bukhara
They say the land is beautiful, the old city of Bukhara
Among all cities, the most revered is Bukhara
In Bukhara, there is the Sitorai Mohosa
Where peacocks shimmer, moving like dancers
Bukhara has the Kalon Minaret
With melodies that touch the heart, and the Shashmaqom rhythms
Come, friends, rest by the Lab-i Hauz
Afandi sends you his greetings from afar
In the Ark, there are crowns and thrones of amirs
On the terraces, their happiness is reflected
In Bukhara, many famous craftsmen are known
Gold embroiderers, shoemakers, potters — come and see
Their works are masterpieces of art, you’ll say
For a moment, you forget all the worries of the world
The old city streets are quite narrow
In Bukhara, people of various nations are found
This city itself holds many secrets
Seven saints guard Bukhara
They call Bukhara the land of the Seven Saints
They always protect us from calamities
Poet: Nigina Ruziyeva