You occupy my thoughts both day and night
Your health is mine; your plight, it is my plight
Oh people mine, you sacred above all
You I cannot betray for all the world
With boundless joy to you I will belong
To you I’ll consecrate my poet’s song
I don’t know why these words should ring so true
I yearn to be the people’s poet, borne of you
The nation’s dream above all dreams must soar
In my own mind, it maddens and it roars
Oh Tengri, I will be her poet… loyal, whole
That is the greatest aspiration of my soul
Oh heavens, take my soul, not my renown
To be forgotten? Better yet to drown.
For I can die, but death won’t take my name
My deeds and efforts should enjoy eternal fame
To be remembered by my people is my goal
I’ve written of my love, befriend me in your soul!
1906
В оригинале на татарском: Милләтә
В переводе на русский язык: К народу (Перевод С.Ботвинника)
К нации (Перевод В.Думаевой-Валиевой)