How to sing of the immense expanses what words to find in order to tellabout the pale steppe beauty about the sincere generosity of my people aboutits age-old wisdom and kindness? According to an ancient legend in immemorial times the great Kazakhsteppe was stroken by an unprecedented drought people hunger and death.Thereremained nothing living in the steppe everything around was dead. A lonelytraveler who lost his way could neither slake his thirst satisfy his hunger.Only in one hearth fire hardly gleamed a sure sign of life. An emaciated oldman welcomed the guest with kind words and offered him the rests of a thinsoup.
The stranger was astonished by his action because the old man welcomedhim as the dearest guest giving him his last food thereby dooming himself tosure death. But being a stranger in this steppe he couldn t know that the oldman couldn t act otherwise couldn t break the sacred law of hospitality.Yes it s legend but what a deep meaning is concealed in it what aselfless goodness and unselfishness it goes about The steppe is the keeper ofage-old folk customs the treasury of wisdom of all generations which livedhere.
The steppe does never disclose its secrets to the weak unimaginatedungifted it always tries its sons with severe snouw-storms biting mercilesswinds heavy showering heat thirst endless distances.In the boundless steppes one often comes across dzhantak a leguminousplant Alhagi which endures intense heat of about 60 C and sand-storms becausethe length of its roots reaches 40 m.Inorder to live in the steppe and not be a stranger in it the man must also takehere deep roots which will give him strength and faith.
The Kazakh people will never forget how the ancient town Otrar whichlong months resisted the iron hordes of the bloody Genghiz-Khan was seized. Atraitor the son of a man respected by everyone opened the town s gates.But howcould a viper be born from a falcon? As it turned out he has been taken faraway from his native town as a boy and returned as a grown man not rememberinghis kinship not knowing its customs.
The steppe is our greatteacher.Since olden days our fate is shaped in our native land. If Your land where You have barefoot run allover every nook isn t dear toYou if Youdon t honour the laws of Your people and don t love Your home then You live fornothing on earth Your heart will shrivel You soul will become callous and Yourland will never reward You with its bounties beauty and abundance.
Dear reader open this albumand You will see boundless blue distances floods of rivers and lakes snow-white mountain peaks blooming gardensand tilled fileds You will hear the dombra s low melodies about the beauty ofthe Kazakhstan steppe about the kindness and generosity of my people. Ученика 10 А Класса Торопчанина Андрея.