Host (A): Good afternoon, esteemed listeners! We continue our conversations about the Tatar language, art, Tatar literature, and history. Our next guest is a very special person. A Tatar son-in-law, a member of the Writers' Union of Tatarstan, but at the same time, a real Turkish guy. At the same time, he is my student, my pupil – Fatih Kotlu. Hello, Fatih! Welcome!

Fatih Kotlu (F): Hello, Alfinа apa! Thank you for the invitation!

A: I also express my gratitude. Fatih graduated from the Faculty of Philology at Elabuga Pedagogical University, majoring in Tatar language and literature, and English language and literature. Therefore, we know each other well, and I hope this conversation will be warm and substantive. Fatih, please introduce yourself to our listeners first. How did you end up in Kazan, in Tatarstan, how did you settle here, and what heights have you reached?

F: I am from Kahramanmaraş. We were four children in the family, twins. Older twins and younger ones too. Parents… My father was a turner. This craft was passed down in our family from generation to generation: from my great-grandfather to my grandfather, from him to my father. Our family practiced turning for three generations, on my father's side. My father's name was Necati, and my mother's name was Şükran; both are now deceased, may God rest their souls. I studied in my hometown Kahramanmaraş for 11 years, and during those years, a student exchange program between Tatarstan and Turkey began: our students went to Tatarstan, and students from Tatarstan came to Turkey. We participated in this program. This is how I ended up in Tatarstan. My paternal grandmother, Zübeyde, was from Andırın, in the Kahramanmaraş area. There is a village called Tatarli, and her mother was from this village. She died young; we didn't know her. Her mother also died young. However, this name, Tatarli, from grandmother Zübeyde, and the word "Tatar," stayed with us. This closeness, warmth… When I read the story of Tahir and Zühre, I became curious, in the 9th grade, in the 7th grade. Even if these names were not Tatar, they still seemed familiar to me.

A: So, the Tatar name, from your Tatar grandmothers, brought you closer to our lands.

F: Yes, yes, it brought me closer.

A: A group of Turkish guys came to Tatarstan in the late 1990s. You stood out among them, Fatih. Charming, smiling, calm, at the same time very interested in the Tatar language and Tatar music. The time of your studies coincided with a period of changes, the Tatar world was buzzing. Concerts were held almost every day. From your group, Husain Çoban recited the adhan so beautifully! All concerts began with the adhan. Then, Fatih Kotlu sang the song "Milaşlarem," which delighted the Tatar audience. These were very interesting times, weren't they, Fatih?

F: Yes, yes, it was very fun. We remember those times with nostalgia. Speaking of Kahramanmaraş, speaking of the language, I want to focus on my love for the Tatar language. To be honest, before coming here, I wasn't particularly interested in the Tatar language; I was more captivated by English. I was especially interested in it when I lived in Turkey, in my city. I studied English, bought specialized books. Tourists, Germans, and other people who knew English came to our city. I would stop them on the street, try to talk to them, even make myself listen, to such an extent… I had a strong desire to learn to speak English when I came here. The Tatar and Kahramanmaraş dialects... The similarity between the Tatar literary language and the Kahramanmaraş dialect also attracted me. For example, in the negative form of the present tense verb, in our city, we say “bilmim,” “tanımıym,” “bilmim.” In Tatar, it is also “белмим,” similar. Look, I said, they speak like us! For example, the word “boydak” or “буйдак” means a single person. In our city, I listen to how people talk. For example, they say: “Haca boydak gidip bardı,” which means, he went on the Hajj alone. Or the words “bıldır, былтыр.” From my mother, I heard “dalçıktım,” which means strong fatigue… things like that… Let's say, for example, the word ““chewing,” in Turkish “çiğnemek,” which means “to chew.” We would say this word with a harder “ch.” Sabun, chıbık – soap, stick. For example, there is the word “edik,” in Tatar it is “itík.” Things like that. Also, “sabahaca gelmedi,” “akşamaca gelmedi” – “to the morning he didn’t come, to the evening he didn’t come.” I then thought that our languages are very close, our dialect is very close, and thus, love for the Tatar language began to be born in my soul. Over time, my love for Tatar overcame my love for English. English gradually started giving way to Tatar. Yes, indeed, we had English there too, and my friends were more inclined towards English because it is believed that you won’t get far with Tatar. English is an international language; with this language, you won't be lost. Yes, that's true, I agree with this, but love took over. The Tatar language conquered my heart. Your role in this is also great.

A: You were probably one of the first to notice the similarity between the Kahramanmaraş dialect and the Tatar language. Your brother, who joined your group a year later, spoke Tatar so well. He once told me: “Apa, our language is so similar to your Tatar; I learned it easily.” It turns out you had the same feelings. In my memory, Fatih remains a student who carried a comprehensive Tatar dictionary under his arm in the corridors of the university. Since then, from your student days, what achievements have you made in the field of the Tatar language and literature? Tell us briefly.

F: We studied Tatar for five years at the Faculty of Philology with love. During this time… Guests from Turkey would come, and a translator from Tatar to Turkish was needed. Not just a translator, but a connoisseur of the language. To translate heartfelt conversations. They found me. At that time, I often accompanied them and translated a lot from Tatar to Turkish and vice versa. During this translation work, the idea of translating Tatar literary works came to my mind. A Turkish publishing house requested a translation of 10 works into Turkish when work was underway on the series “Kardeş Edebiyatlar” (Brotherly Literatures?). We, three comrades. I said then, what’s so difficult about it, I studied at the Faculty of Philology for five years. I work as an oral translator. I looked at this task then as something easy. I thought it would be easy; I am translating into my native language. But when I started, and my first work was “The Unspoken Will” by Amir Khan Eniki. Of course, I read this work with great love. This story impressed me very much. My last name is Kotlu, and in the work, there was a village called Yulkotlu. I thought, even the name of the village is like my last name. This work evoked so many feelings in me. Speaking of translation, the experience of the first translation was so difficult, I felt the weight of translation on my shoulders. It turned out completely different from what I imagined. Sometimes I even scolded myself and said that I took on this work in vain. I realized that it was very hard. We say that we have brotherly languages. In Turkey, especially, Tatar is not even considered a separate language. We do not consider Tatar a foreign language. There is an opinion that it is a dialect, Tatar Turkish or Kyrgyz Turkish… but no, there is a separate, formed language with its own literature. Yes, we are from the same language group, the Turkic group, but there is the Tatar language, and you understand the necessity of recognizing its existence. We are used to saying that our languages are similar, like the words “eye, brow, spoon, mouth” (күз, каш, кашык, авыз). We only pronounce these words and that's it. Yes, the languages are close, but we even deceive ourselves with this. Tatar literature of the early 20th century… They… In the madrasa, they taught Turkish, due to the fact that Turkish was taught, Tatar scholars, intelligentsia, writers spoke Turkish well. We draw a conclusion from this… Gabdulla Tukay has poems in Turkish. And we say that Tatar and Turkish languages were the same back then… But it’s not true, even a hundred years ago, people spoke the same Tatar as today. Jamal Validi, speaking about the national-language problem, noted: a hundred years ago, Turks and Tatars did not understand each other. So, a hundred years ago. So, the modern Tatar language, the Tatar language… Since the Oghuz, Tatars are Kipchaks, there is a difference between Tatars and Kipchaks. We can communicate with Azerbaijanis, but even Kipchak from Kipchak is different. For the Oghuz and Kipchaks, a translator was always needed. That’s why… you are trained like this, and walls begin to crumble in your head, ice of prejudice melts. You understand this when you encounter it personally. Both “The Unspoken Will” and “Beauty,” and Sharif Kamal’s stories “Blizzard,” “Awakening,” all this was in my translation, it was a joint work. Then I understood all the difficulties of translation, I can say this. What I am about to say now is not a thesis; I even conjugated. Translating from Tatar to Russian is easier than from Tatar to Turkish because translations from Tatar to Russian have been going on for years, it’s already a trodden path. As for translations from Tatar to Turkish and from Turkish to Tatar, there is only a small path trodden, and it is thorny. These are the conclusions you come to. This book, these stories found great response, especially in Turkey. This inspired me. I started translating in 2004, and the book was published in 2005. However, before “The Unspoken Will,” in 2000, I got acquainted with Ayaz Gilyazov. Speaking of Tatar literature. His journey to Turkey, his stories about the trip to the very center of Turkey, when I read his travel notes, I was drawn to him. There was some feeling in my soul… Because when you read such beautiful words about your homeland, it attracts. March 15, 2000, Kazan bookstore, I see a book on the shelf, called “Let’s Pray!” I look, below signed in small print “Ayaz Gilyazov.” I then thought, if this is Ayaz Gilyazov, then it must be a good book. I bought it. You could say it was his last story. This was the first story of Ayaz Gilyazov that I read. It is an autobiographical novel of 450 pages. I began reading this book with great love. It wasn’t easy, but reading the novel every day, I imagined what he experienced, his sufferings, in the Aktas camps in Kazakhstan… After reading this, I felt even more drawn to Ayaz Gilyazov. I started to love him with all my heart; I wanted to meet him. I thought I needed to meet him at all costs and kiss his hands. According to Turkish traditions, it is customary to kiss the hands of elders. I kept thinking, is he in reality as I imagine him? I wrote an open letter; it was even published in a newspaper. Then I went to the publishing house and expressed my desire to meet Ayaz Gilyazov. They called him at home and said that they were expecting me tomorrow evening at six. It was April 26, 2000, Wednesday, at six in the evening. I was very excited. I took the book in my hands, as I had made notes in it while reading. I thought, I will show this, do that, this… I wanted to talk to him about this book with some impatience. Six in the evening, I’m excited. I rang the doorbell. Nakia apa opened the door. Her first question was: “Do you speak Tatar?” I answered that I do. I went in, Ayaz Gilyazov was sitting in a chair; it was the year 2000, he was slowly recovering. I saw him. We started talking. He turned out to be exactly as I imagined. In reality, we fall in love with a book character, and in reality, the representation may be destroyed. But no, he turned out to be exactly as I imagined. So, I started enthusiastically talking about “Let’s Pray!” How it impressed me, I read the lines I had underlined. I think Ayaz Gilyazov was surprised. Some guy from Turkey read his work, no one told him about him, found it himself, read it himself. I handed him this book and asked for an autograph. He said he would have given a book himself, that he had a copy. But I said that the copy I read myself is dearer to me. He wrote in my copy: “Fatih bey, you brought a piece of the sun into my house. Thank you.” I want to convey his words; don’t think I am bragging. I want to show what a big-hearted person he was, what a fine soul he had. I consider it a blessing from God. These two times we talked for hours. His warmth is still in my heart. After that, I read his stories, read four volumes, then I took on “On Friday Evening.” Oh, this book is harder! How can I say, Bibinur showed me then… The previous ones I translated for two years, as I do not solely engage in translations. But “On Friday Evening” I translated for four years. Nakia apa said: “Enough, Fatih, don’t wear yourself out.” But I looked, he wrote to Koyash Timbikova, the editor of the magazine “Azat Khatyn” in 1979: “Koyash, remember I started writing one story in 1977?” This work was born back then. So many years he wrote “On Friday Evening.” And “On Friday Evening” was also published; it was very loved by readers, read with love. Whoever read it, everyone liked it. And “Three Arshins of Land,” let me say this. When a book is published, writers have this desire to give it to everyone. Joy! I started giving “Three Arshins of Land” to all my friends out of joy. We live here, a year later we met. And I asked if they had read this book. They bowed their heads and said they hadn’t read it. No one read it. I then said I give them one year, if they don’t read it, I’ll take the books back! That’s what I said.

A: Are they Tatars or Turks? Turkish friends?

F: Turks, Turkish friends. I gave them the Turkish version. They were impressed by the memories of this. Then I translated Ayaz Gilyazov's story "The Wound." "The Wound is my dignity, honor," said Ayaz Gilyazov himself. About Sibgat Hakim’s "Spring Caravans"... he has a poem called "Spring Caravans." Translating them is sweet torment, sweet torment. Today, four books by Ayaz Gilyazov have been published in my translation. And there is one more translation that is not yet published, "The Tale of Love and Hate." I also have "Let's Pray!" on hand; I think its editing is already finished. Speaking of my spiritual connection with Ayaz Gilyazov, I want to dwell on this in more detail. Ayaz Gilyazov's book "Three Arshins of Land" was published in 2008. Hold on, I said, 2008... After how many years is this work published in Turkish? I look, it was written in 1962. That's 46 years later. And 46 is the number of Kahramanmaraş. Yes, this may be just a coincidence. The book was published. I see, and it's the 46th book of the publishing house where it was printed. To this day, four books of this publishing house are works of Ayaz Gilyazov. Leaving Ayaz Gilyazov for now, the fairy-tale novel by Rabit Batulla "Adventures of Alyp Batyr." He told me: "Fatih, read this. I think you won't be disappointed, maybe you'll be happier." He said that a person who reads this work is a happy person. I said: "Okay, I'll read it, Uncle Batulla." I read it... wow! I loved this book very much. A fairy-tale novel, but it has an Aesopian language. It reflects the times of the USSR, he dared. I even called him "Batyr Babay" after that. I loved him very much and told Rabit Batulla that I would translate this novel. I said I would take on this task with great desire. At that time, there was very little time left before his 75th anniversary. Here’s the secret: in 6 or 7 months, I translated very enthusiastically, and "Adventures of Alyp Batyr" was published in time for his 75th anniversary. I loved this work very much, and in Turkey, it was very loved by the youth. This is also a very strong work, one of my favorites. I told Rabit Batulla that I am truly happy both as a reader and as a translator of this work. Among these 12 works, two years ago, an anthology was published by the publishing house "Häcäy." This is an anthology of works by contemporary Tatar writers. It includes works by still-living Tatar writers. And here, I express my gratitude to you as well; you wrote a review of this anthology. The anthology is titled "Kazan Souvenir" both in Turkey and here. There are works by thirty still-living Tatar writers. The fact that the writers are alive gives the translator opportunities… To communicate, ask questions about unclear moments, ask if I understood correctly, check it. Translating works by still-living writers is a great happiness for a translator. These thirty works, thirty writers were chosen by Rkaile and Zaydulla. Since I... It’s an anthology, it's a responsibility. To choose 30 writers, their works… I said, you choose the writers; after all, we communicate with the writers, let it be not from me, but from you. It’s an anthology. They consulted, Uncle Rkaile also consulted. They chose thirty writers, and then I approached the authors and asked them to choose the works themselves. Because I cannot read the works of all thirty writers, make conclusions about them; there is no time. Where would I get it? What could I do? They chose and sent them to me. The genre of the story, that is, I think it is harder to write a story than a novel. Because in these narrow and small number of pages, you need to fit everything necessary. Writing stories requires a special skill. These thirty works are truly… That is, writing, intelligence… When I read these thirty works, when I translated, I realized that the writers are truly great personalities; they are not simple people. A translator is... I consider myself a worker in this field, a worker. Trying to reflect this, to play the role of a mirror. However, the talent of writing stories is different. So, in 2009... After the publication of these three books, we were accepted into the Writers' Union of the Republic of Tatarstan. Many thanks to the writers. Being in the same pot with them is inspiring. Communicating with them, living in this sphere is happiness, I believe. Living here, being a member of the Writers' Union of Tatarstan, we became comrades in pen. Comrades in pen. We are not just readers; we are brothers in thoughts, comrades in pen. We communicate, there are translations. Thank God. If I managed to highlight part of my work with our Writers' Union, I would consider myself happy with this story.

A: Fatih, indeed, I understood what a laborious task the anthology you translated was when I read it myself. I read it as if through your eyes. Thirty writers, thirty characters, thirty pens (I'm not sure how to translate this better). There are words there that are not used in today's language and can only be understood by Tatars themselves, and there were also works where Russian words were sometimes used. I understood the complex process you worked in. Indeed, this is not easy work. Of course, your love for Ayaz Gilyazov will continue, I think his works will still be published. Ayaz Gilyazov is happy that you were in his life. You rediscovered him for Tatarstan, increased his fame, drew more attention to him, and introduced Turkey to his works. May his soul rejoice, and may you be rewarded. These works of yours are indeed incredibly good. Since we are talking about literature, I want to ask, Fatih. What is the state of Tatar literature? Does it have a beautiful future? And what do you think about the future of the Tatar language? Is it hopeless or the opposite? I want to hear your thoughts.

F: Of course, I think literature is connected with the fate of peoples. Difficult times, eras, literature is not born only from an easy life; literature is not born from a good life. Literature is a fruit of difficulties. From hard times, literature comes out strong, hardened. Even if it seems that literature is in decline, rolling down the slope, but even in these times, it burns, it flames. From this, truly, writers are born. This is not only about Tatar literature; generally speaking... I am talking about Turkish, Russian literature, and others. The situation of writers today seems difficult to me. This concerns not only Tatar writers and literati. In general, today, if we can call this a commodity... today it is not a commodity in our world. Interest in other things has grown. This has a negative impact on literature, a strong negative impact. This concerns both Tatar literature, and Turkish, and Russian. No one, in my opinion, can say that they are experiencing a period of prosperity. No one can probably say that this is a golden age now. Because life gives literature to the people, after all, it has its readers. The situation of readers, their state. Therefore, I want to say that this is a general situation, for Tatar literature too. Let's look, for example, at the times of Ayaz Gilyazov, we say that this was a period of prosperity. The times of Amirkhan Eniki, these are the times of classics. These are the times of Muhammad Muktiev... Readers had a need, a desire. If we approach from the side of the language, the language is drying up. The Tatar language is a very rich language; the wealth of the language is not harmed, but the language of the Tatar speakers is impoverishing. Due to impoverishment, they think that the Tatar language is also poor. Their own language is poor, so they think the Tatar language is the same because they cannot speak, cannot go far. Even when the book "Three Arshins of Land" was published in Turkey, I was told, will it be read in Tatar? With such pity. "Who will read it?" etc. I said: "You think the Tatar language is poor because your language is poor." I say that Tatar is not poor; it is a rich language. I said, enrich your language. There are many reasons for this. The problem of parents, the problem of the native language, and upbringing in the native language. For example, I call this language consciousness. There is national consciousness, and its small part... Well, not small, of course, the language is part of national consciousness. A person may have national consciousness, may love their nation, but may not pay attention to the language. This is probably characteristic of our people too. Characteristic of Turks. Oh, such a heroic people and all that. But if you look, they are inattentive to the language. In other countries, I speak about Turks, I speak from this perspective. I have lived here for so many years, I see my Turkish friends, and if you compare, the attitude of Tatars towards their language is stronger than that of Turks. We have negligence. We have a separate country - Turkey, in this country live Turks, so we do not fully understand the problem of language loss. In Germany, in Europe, I heard, in the third-fourth generation, the knowledge of the language ends. Parents are Turks, but there it decomposes faster, assimilation, because of this. The people here have preserved the language, somewhat. But, for example, look at the Turks who were engaged in trade in these years, many Russian words have come into their spoken language, a lot! They do not pay attention, but they were not born and raised here. They were born and raised in Turkey, but Tatars have lived together with the Russian language for 400 years, 500 years, where can they go? Isn't it so?! Therefore, I urge my friends to preserve their language. So do I, when Tatars with children… they say, "Let's preserve Tatar." I also tell my Turkish friends: let's preserve Tatar, in Tatar. That is, preserving the language while living in another country, with other peoples, is not an easy task. What I want to say is: let the child learn a foreign language, let them learn English, let them learn another language. But if they were also attentive to their native language… there is not enough attention to their language, not enough pride. Their language, literature... It comes from parents, from the environment. This is language consciousness. What I want to say: when I talk to my Turkish friends, I constantly correct them. They tell me: "Fatih, in your presence, we cannot speak normally." Because they constantly insert Russian words. "When you are here," they say, "Fatih, one word is said, and we think about how to say it, we speak thoughtfully." One day my wife tells me: "Fatih, they started selling sour cream in Turkey." I say: "Really?!" But I was more interested not in the sale of sour cream in Turkey, but in how it is called there. The word "sour cream" is translated as "kaymak" or "village kaymak," right? But this kaymak... I thought, looked, checked... we say milk, village milk and city milk - it's all milk. Village eggs and city eggs - it's all eggs. But village kaymak and sour cream are two different things. They are produced by different technologies. They couldn't find a word, it's not kaymak, it's sour cream. Calling it "sour cream" does not mean using the Russian language. It is sour cream, not kaymak. I'll say this first. Secondly, how is sour cream called in Turkish? Ekşi krema - that's what they called it, Ekşi krema. Oh, how happy I was, if you only knew! After 30 years, I say, I found out the translation of the word "sour cream" into Turkish! Now, I say, I will call it only Ekşi krema. My wife said: "Oh! Why did I tell you, I ruined everything, why did I tell you!" I answered her that I do not force her to call sour cream in the Turkish translation, but I will ask you in Turkish to give me Ekşi krema. I even talked about this with my Tatar friend. It can be called "äçe kaymak" (sour kaymak) - he told me. That's one option. Then recently, condensed milk... I struggled. I racked my brain over the Turkish version of this word. In Tatar, it's called kuertılgan söte (condensed milk), like that. I was eating "Dido" chocolate and saw "süt reçeli" on the package. I saw this and said: "Wow!" If you only knew how happy I was! It can be called milk jam, to tell the truth! Yes, it's milk jam! Instead of calling it condensed, I say. So I try to keep my language clean and Tatar too, I try not to insert Russian words. Let it be clean, snow-white. If you speak Tatar, you try to speak only Tatar. Every language is precious. Allah... I started reading the Quran thoughtfully. Before that, I only read it in the original Arabic. During the coronavirus, I thought, our parents for so many years, at the age of 4-5 years, sent us to study with abıstay, at 4.5 years, even before school. We went there every day. It was considered very important for us. The ability to read the Quran was considered an important skill. Even at feasts, parents asked: "Come on, son, read." It was an important achievement, but we read for years without understanding, without being interested, to tell the truth, in what the Quran says. The native language of the Quran was Arabic. Say (to them) (O, Messenger) (to these polytheists): "Read (the Quran) wisely." Reading it, I chose verses related to language. There are only 14 verses, if I am not mistaken. That is, different languages, languages are wonders of Allah. I realized that religion is not against the diversity of languages.” "For we have created you," says Allah, "in different languages and different nations." To whatever people we sent a messenger, we sent him in the language of the same people. "So, Allah created us and created all languages. So, he created and loved the diversity of nations. If Allah wished, he would create one language and only one nation. But Allah said: "communicate in different languages and share your wealth with each other." This means that everyone has their language, their literature, their culture, their traditions, their songs, language is the foundation of culture, history, songs, love for the nation. Language is the foundation of everything!

A: A very interesting conversation, Fatih. Preserving the language, for example, the terms... when new words enter it, and how to pronounce them in your pure native language... I'm talking more about the Turkish example. For example, there is a Turkish language root. This is a Turkish institution that I think works very well. For example, the word "computer" that everyone uses now, the word "printer," yet Turkish invented its new terms. I even argued with a Turkish scientist. He called the printout from the printer "çıktı." I found this very interesting. He said to me: "Bring me the 'çıktı' (printout)." But how, I said, can the past tense verb "çıktı" be a noun for any object? But this word has entered the Turkish language and is used with pleasure. They don't use the word "printer" or the word "computer." Of course, many international words have also entered, but still, there is a root that stands guard over the language. In Tatarstan, of course, there is the Institute of Language and Literary Arts, and I think they should work more actively in this area.

F: I think the same. We think that the Turkish Dil Kurumu is doing a very successful job. I say that this work is successful, I think about it, I look, I rejoice. Because language is a living substance, language grows, new words are born. You must not fall behind, and if you don't find a Turkish version of a word, a foreign word will enter the speech. Thinking about Tatar words... For example, an example - "suitcase mood." How to say this in Tatar? For example, when I talked with my late father... "ayak üzän kitä" - it means always ready to leave. For example, ... "ayak üzän kitä." We are related languages; we can borrow from each other. We can borrow from us, and we can borrow from Tatar. It's the same with us. We have wealth. "How can we say this? Can we find our version?" That is, if you want, you have the Kazakh version, there are others, what others say... For example, the Kazakhs have the word for ice cream - "balbızdak"? See, they found the word in their own way. So, you need to keep an eye on who is doing this and really enrich the language with these new words, not give up. I say that this is the work of those who are engaged in language preservation.

A: At the end of our conversation, Fatih, sing us a song in Tatar. Let them listen to you. If you have a favorite song, go ahead.

F: I will tell you the story of my favorite song. In the first year, I sang a song in Turkish in front of the audience for the first time. One of the spectators then invited us to visit, a Tatar family. I knew very little Tatar at that time, and there was another friend with me, he arrived earlier than me. I just, like Ayaz Gilyazov asked, asked him what Tatar songs are there. Just like that, not particularly interested, to be honest. The child of this family took me by the hand and led me to his room, turned on the tape recorder there. I listened for 10-15 seconds... The melody of this song, the music impressed me. I asked to write down the words of this song and borrowed this cassette. I learned this song and began to sing it to myself. A year passed. A year later, a Tatar-Turkish evening was organized in our Elabuga. I had never sung on stage. I was very nervous. Uncle Munir introduced us on stage. You then introduced me as "Fatih Kotlu, particularly interested in the Tatar language." When it was my turn to perform, Uncle Munir said: "Fatih has prepared a special song for you – 'Miläşlärim' ('My Rowans')." He said this and I went on stage. I couldn't see anyone on stage. My heart was beating wildly; I thought it would jump out of my chest. My legs were trembling. I was holding my leg, trying to sing at the same time. With difficulty, I sang, good thing I didn't make a mistake. And they applauded so much! They covered me with applause until their palms turned red. It was a time when the song "Miläşlärim" was gaining popularity again. I sang this song, and my fame began. If there was any event, an evening, my Turkish friends invited me: "Come on, Fatih, sing 'Miläşlärim'." They invited me everywhere, found me: "Guests are coming from Turkey, come on, sing 'Miläşlärim'," there were Tatar-Turkish weddings... In Nizhnekamsk or another city, they called: "Fatih, sing 'Miläşlärim'." My friends were fed up with me; they were also with me. They once told me, Fatih, you stay in the shadows if guests come from Turkey. Once, I even saw someone in Bugulma. He came up and said to me: "How are you, 'Miläşlärim'?" He didn't know my name. "How are you, 'Miläşlärim'?" Okay, I was in the Tukaevsky district, in a village. A girl saw me there, I'll say her words, I don't like to insert Russian words, but I want to convey her words exactly. She says to me: "I know you!" I replied, "Where do you know me from?" And she: "You are the guy who always sings 'Miläşlärim'." There were mothers and fathers, school mothers and fathers. They knew that I sing 'Miläşlärim,' they listened with pleasure. After so many years, I went on stage and said: "This time I won't sing 'Miläşlärim'. Don't think that this guy hasn't learned any other song besides 'Miläşlärim' after so many years. I know other songs. I want to sing the song 'Taw başına salıngandır bezneñ awıl'." I sang it. And then they applauded, asked me to sing 'Miläşlärim' as an encore. Once a woman came up to me with flowers and said that I shouldn't get off the stage until I sang 'Miläşlärim'. Then I had this cassette... Oh, I had 'Miläşlärim' performed by Alsu Khisamieva, Alsu khanum. I took this cassette to Turkey. My brother Kemal Kotlu is a singer. He also learned it. More than ten years ago already. We invited him to the Navruz festival in Turkey. I gave the Tatar version of this song on Turkish radio; it was broadcast on our city radio. They even invited me to one school in Turkey. When I told them about 'Miläşlärim': "Uncle, can you give me your email?" They said my email was probably: "Miläşlärim hotmail dot com". That's how much 'Miläşlärim'. Then he came to me and said: "Brother, let's meet Alsu Khisamieva." This didn't even cross my mind. How will I find Alsu Khisamieva?! Zuhra Sharifullina, thanks to her, she found her in Naberezhnye Chelny. She came to the café of the late Ismail. Alsu khanum was shocked: "Why, what happened?! Why did the Turks invite me?!" She didn't know anything! After I told her, Kemal was sitting next to me. I told her what I told you. Her eyes were like five-kopeck coins! She said she almost forgot this song, and I still sing 'Miläşlärim'. Then we moved to Ismail-bey's office. Let's sing together, a trio. We decided so. I sang to her. She listened; she listened carefully; she is a singer. She then told me that this moment I sing is not quite right. I said that for so many years, I sang it incorrectly and need to apologize. She corrected me and showed me how to sing it. Well, then I said: "Let's listen to 'Miläşlärim' in your performance." She sang it to us a cappella. Wow! When she sang, I thought I would lose consciousness! It was so beautiful, so... Not only me, we all were speechless. Then we sang together. That was the finale of 'Miläşlärim'. So now I... Told a lot about 'Miläşlärim', if I don't sing now, I think it will be wrong. I even sang a little bit in Turkish, just one verse. Thirty years have passed; we still sing 'Miläşlärim'. 'Miläşlärim' is popular again now; I hear its remixes; it's popular again. Our children also know 'Miläşlärim'. If their father knows, how can they not know 'Miläşlärim'? How can they miss it? Once my friend said, it was once in Turkey: "Fatih, I want to hear the song 'Miläşlärim' at the Tatar evening. Maybe you made up this song; I haven't heard it from anyone else, only in your performance, send me the Tatar version of this song." Because we always sang only 'Miläşlärim', that's why he remembered it. Now I will try to sing 'Miläşlärim'.

Fatih sings "Miläşlärim"

Before the house rowans,
As if understanding what I want,
They call to free
A heart full of sorrow.

My rowans, my rowans,
You are my faithful friends.
From heartache,
My tears flow.

In difficult moments,
I go to ask for advice:
Tell me, my sorrows
How to dull, rowans?!

My rowans, my rowans,
You are my faithful friends.
From heartache,
My tears flow.

Rowans sway,
From the morning wind,
Sorrows will pass, dear,
If you return to the Motherland.

My rowans, my rowans,
You are my faithful friends.
From heartache,
My tears flow.

A: Thank you, Fatih. We are already at the end of our conversation. You are still in the middle of your creativity. I wish you great success in your future life, in creativity. Only recently there was news in the Union of Writers of Tatarstan - for your contribution to Tatar literature, you were nominated for the Gayaz Ishaki Prize. I was very happy. It is very pleasant that your translations are accepted by both our writers and readers in Turkey. May this not be your last success. You equally serve two brotherly languages, Tatar and Turkish. And it is pleasant for you to see the fruits of your labor; I wish success and health to your children and family. Say hello to all your friends, all your comrades. May Turkish-Tatar friendship always live. May Tatarstan and Turkey always live. Thank you, Fatih.

F: Amen, amen. Thank you, Alfina apa. I really missed you; I haven't talked to you in a long time. We never, I speak the truth now, I say this openly, sincerely: we never felt like strangers, we never felt like in a foreign country. Thank you!

A: Thank you, Fatih. Let's stay in touch, see you. Let's constantly share our creative successes with each other.

F: Amen.

A: Let's be healthy.

F: Let's be healthy, God willing, Alfina apa.