In the cradle of Uzbekistan, where legends bloom, Amidst the jasmine's scent and pomegranate's gloom, Tashkent stands proud, a beacon of our land, With hearts as vast as deserts, and dreams so grand. From Khiva's ancient walls to Bukhara's domes, Echoes of our ancestors, in sacred tomes, Their footsteps traced in sands of time, Guiding us forward, with wisdom sublime. In every courtyard, tales are spun, Of conquerors and poets, beneath the sun, Their voices linger in the evening breeze, Whispering secrets, among the trees. With hands that weave the fabric of our past, And eyes that gleam with memories vast, Uzbek life unfolds in vibrant hue, A tapestry of cultures, old and new. In bustling bazaars, where treasures gleam, And laughter flows like a timeless stream, The spirit of our people shines bright, In every market stall, in every light. Yet amidst the hustle and bustle of the day, There's a tranquility that never fades away, In the quiet moments, beneath the stars, We find solace in the land of our forebears. For Uzbekistan, with its storied past, Is a land of resilience, that will forever last, And though the world may change and shift, Our roots run deep, our spirits lift. So let us honor our homeland true, With hearts ablaze in shades of blue, For in Uzbekistan, our souls find rest, In the embrace of those who know us best.