There are all kinds of days,
There are all kinds of flowers.
My soul, don’t think badly of people,
Among them are outstanding ones.
There is one to give bread to beggars,
One to scatter grain for the pigeons,
One to shed his blood in time of need,
Even one to sacrifice his life.
The healthy may lie down sick,
The traveler may encounter disaster.
A king may lose his country,
And find himself gathering firewood on the dune.
This world is mysterious, people are glorious,
In life people are their own pillars.
Just as there is water for the fire and embers for the winter,
So there is beauty for the journey.
– Mehemmetjan Rashidin, People Are Glorious
A musical setting of this poem appears on Music of Central Asia Vol. 10: Borderlands