Childhood in his memory a poet keeps,
Everyone has a dream, both bitter and sweet.
Holiday comes, I wish I were a child, to laugh and play,
The eve of Garafa saw sadness swept away.
I recall how impatiently I waited for the dawn,
Eager new ichigs, my new shirt and pants to put on.
Sweet were my dreams before night left my doorway,
In my dreams so bright was this upcoming holiday.
I’ll always remember my Mother’s gentle voice:
“Gaid Namaz is here, get up and let’s rejoice!”
Running like crazy along the crowded streets,
Who was happier than me? It was pure joy and bliss.
And right after the prayer, I would blithely laugh.
O, the yummy taste of Qurbani meat – never enough.
In my memory engrained, I can’t hold back tears,
How joyful was this time, those unforgettable years.
Rays of light from the sky streaming down upon you…
Not just one sun was shining, but at least two.
O, Great Allah, I beg of you and pray.
Let me go back, and in my childhood stay,
Rejoice in cheerful laughter and endless merry play.
1907
В оригинале на татарском: Бәйрәм вә сабыйлык вакыты
В переводе на русский язык:
Праздник в детстве (Перевод Л.Руст)