What is the secret of this old tower,
Which survived people and centuries?
Noble and powerful
The hand has conquered the stones.
We caressed the cold stones,
Heated hearth sore chest…
The symbol of the spirit is the Ingush tower,
Beacon illuminated the way.
She did not fall mad
Not bent your stone camp.
Only quietly moaned in the wind,
When they were driving people to Kazakhstan.
And when we returned home,
Like a gentle, kind mother,
Gathering children at the foot,
To tell your grief…
There are graves in faraway Bishkek…
It is heavy, chilly in them to all mothers.
Dear them more often Ingush tower,
Sing to them the song of running stream.
Chases us to rock a hell of a circle..
How many were there in our fate!!!!
We put our hearts in stones
Having become like a tower.
Ingush Tower
Written by Maryam Lyanova.