Ey Güzel Qırım

Ey, güzel Qırım (Crimean Tatar: «Ey, güzel Qırım», lit. ''Oh, Beautiful Crimea'') is a famous Crimean Tatar folk song. Its melody is universally recognized among Crimean Tatars and is frequently played in Crimean Tatar concerts. The sorrow lyrics mourn a life of exile and grieve over the loss of a beloved homeland. The origin of the song is unclear, but it is believed that it was composed anonymously sometime after the deportation of the Crimean Tatars. However, there are unconfirmed allegations that it was written during a visit to Alushta in 1968 by Fatma Halilova and Shurki Osmanov - Crimean Tatars who were exiled to Andijan. A stanza of the song that did not contain the word "Crimea" was incorporated into Jamala's song "1944" when she represented Ukraine in the Eurovision Song Contest 2016 and won.

Lyrics

Original version

Crimean Tatar (Latin alphabet)	Crimean Tatar (Cyrillic alphabet)
Aluştadan esken yeller Yüzüme urdı. Balalıqtan ösken yerler Közüme tüşti. Men bu yerde yaşalmadım, Yaşlığıma toyalmadım, Vatanıma asret oldım, Ey, güzel Qırım. Bağçalarnıñ meyvaları, Bal ile şerbet. Suvlarıñnı içe-içe, Toyalmadım men. Bala-çağa Vatanım dep, Közyaşın töke, Qartlarımız elin cayıp, Dualar ete.	Алуштадан эскен еллер Юзюме урды. Балалыкътан оськен ерлер Козюме тюшти. Мен бу ерде яшылмадым, Яшлыгъыма тоялмадым, Ватаныма асрет олдым, Эй, Гузель Къырым. Багъчаларнынъ мейвалары Бал иле шербет Сувларынъны иче-иче Тоялмадым мен. Бала-чагъа Ватаным деп, Козьяшын тёке, Къартларымыз элин джайып Дуалар эте.

Automatic translation of Russian version

Winds blow from Alushta,

Blow in my face,

Eyes filled with tears

In the land of the fathers

On native earth I did not live

I was not young enough

I'm homesick,

Oh, beautiful Crimea!

Gardens and fruit grow here,

There's sherbet and honey.,

Not get drunk water clean,

That flows in Crimea

In my native place I did not live,

The joy of youth I did not know,

I missed my Homeland,

Oh, beautiful Crimea!

Kids will say "homeland"

Immediately tears pour,

Old men stretch out their hands

All the prayers I send...

On native earth I did not live,

I was not young enough,

I'm homesick,

My beautiful Crimea!

In my native place I did not live,

The joy of youth I did not know,

I missed my Homeland,

My beautiful Crimea!