Today let’s listen to Zulya Kamalova’s song Yükələr and appreciate the beautiful voice and creativity put by her into every song, and the huge contribution she made to our Tatar culture 💔
I’ve chosen this song because firstly, it’s just one of the most beautiful compositions I’ve ever heard. Secondly, it’s based on her father’s poems, which makes it a magical family project, full of love, care, and wisdom passed down through generations.
I also want to share the backstory of Yükələr told by Zulya Kamalova on her Instagram page. The song is about her father’s difficult childhood and the unique things made from linden bark: they didn’t just make shoes and baskets from it, but also flour. When Zulya was little, her father constantly talked about how to survive in wild conditions. Not only berries, mushrooms, and nuts, but also different herbs, young pine shoots, old roots, and even formic acid could be food!
Listen on Youtube, Spotify, or Apple Music.
ZULYA – YÜKƏLƏR
Urman urtasında
Yəş yükələr, şəwləp üsələr.
Zifa buylı yükələrgə
Süz quşmıyça kitsəñ, üpkələr.
Söyləgez, dim, barısı turında,
Rəncetmime sezne keşelər?
Ber qart yükə söylim dide
Ütkəndəge awır yazmışın.
...Bu əkiyət tügel, bu — bulğan xəl.
“Elek zaman bez də kürdek şaqtıy awırlıqnı,
Tormış açısın:
Çabatalar yasaw öçen bezne küp qırdılar,
Yözləp – meñərləp.
Keşe bezneñ çikmənnərne telep,
Alıp kitte maqtap, biştərləp.
Yəşlər qızlar awlaq öygə yörde,
Ürgən nəfis “tuflya” – ayaqta.
Əbilərgə uñay qata idek –
Bez küp xözmət ittek ul çaqta.
Awır taşı tegermənneñ
Tunnarıbız buldı sarı on.
Peşerdelər bezne köldə,
Terək buldıq yəşəw öçen.”
Urman urtasında
Yəş yükələr, şəwləp üsələr.
Zifa buylı yükələrgə
Süz quşmıyça kitsəñ, üpkələr.
ZULYA – LINDENS
In the middle of the forest
Young lindens grow in the shade.
If you pass by these slender lindens
Without saying a word, they’ll be offended.
"Tell me," I say, "about everything,
Don’t people hurt you?"
An old linden said, "Let me tell you
About the hardships of the past.
...This is no fairy tale, this is real."
"Back in the day, we faced many difficulties,
The bitterness of life:
They cut us down in large numbers
To make bast shoes, hundreds to thousands.
People tore off our bark,
Praising it and carrying it away in sacks.
Young women went to gatherings,
Wearing delicate shoes made from us.
We served grandmothers well as sturdy shoes —
We worked hard back then.
Our bark was the heavy stone of the mill,
It turned into yellow flour.
They baked us in the ashes,
We were a support for survival."
In the middle of the forest
Young lindens grow in the shade.
If you pass by these slender lindens
Without saying a word, they’ll be offended.