Here is the green again,
Soy grass from healthy soils.
So good for the lawn,
The rustle of rain wipes the leaf.
They are not thrown immediately at a glance,
They are happy with food,
But for every herb that grows,
Soft and peaceful lands are not divided.
With a few struggles and hardships,
Many grasses over the asphalt.
With so much pain,
People are not aware of it.
What you put in gold coins,
It doesn’t touch the asphalt for the sake of it,
On the day the weak mower ends,
Why is the value of greenness lower than money?
Gulchehra Iskanderova was born on April 10, 2010 in Gallaorol district of Jizzakh region. Graduated from the School of Talented Young Journalists. Author of many poems.
