Son of the Steppe

The first version The clouds kiss me from above, the sun caresses, I am a son of the steppe, Do not call my chest hollow or empty. I cherish life, so radiant and bright, And see all people as kin in my sight. The clouds kiss me from above, the sun enfolds, To me, all people are kindred souls. How blessed are humans in their earthly dance, Not chasing disputes with no chance of advance. The clouds kiss me from above, the sun rolls by, If I don’t love this life, would it not be a lie? I pray to the One, day and night, “Protect the Kazakh nation from calamity's plight.” As time flows and wisdom deepens with years, A good name cannot vanish, it perseveres. Many poets have passed without penning truth, Their words unheard, their silence proof. Sorrow and joy, laughter and tears, From my heart, verse flows, erasing fears. If I can support my nation so bold, A people reborn a thousandfold. Second version Field son The clouds kiss and the sun smell my head, Don't tell me your chest is empty, I am the son of the field and my life is bright, I love all people as relatives briefly. The clouds kissed me, the sun is bright, All humanity is related to me. People are happy to wake up tonight, Did not chase the controversy. The clouds kiss me and the sun is caress, If we don't love this life, it is a big sin. To save the country from disaster cases, I pray day and night from God king. The poet grew up with a time, If you are smart, you are fame way. Cannot writing even truth line, How many poets have passed away? Sometimes cry, Sometimes laugh, Sometimes sad, The poem flows from my heart. I want to support to great people that, Thousand times died, thousand times stand up.