Rezultatele căutării

Invitation

Waiting
Do come in such a nice weather
So that it would not be a question for me to dispence
 

Flag

Oh my human brother who lies dead

The Story of Ali Rıza and Ahmed

How strange the story of Ali Rıza
And Ahmed
One lives in the village
And the other one in the city
And every single morning
The one in the city heads to the village
And the one in the village heads to the city
 

Clove

You're right, probably it's not beautiful,
more than the art of hyperbole,
that ten thousand people die in Warsaw,
and not look alike
that a motorized infantry to a clove,
'came from the lips of beloved.'
 

Sunday Evenings

Now I'm scruffy, but
after paying my debts
probably I'll get more dresses new too
and probably you
won't like me again.
However, on sunday evenings
when I pass through your neighborhood,
with dressed up,
do you think that I'm gonna
appreciate you more than right now?
 

Insects

Don't think,
Just desire!
Look, insects do it too.
 

Like Us

I wonder, is a tank avid,
In its dream?
And what does the plane think?
When it was alone
 
I wonder, is a gas mask
Likes to sing all together
In the moonlight?
 
And does the rifles have mercy?
As much as like us?
 

Desires and Memories

Desires are something different,
Memories are also something different.
Tell me, how to live
In a city where you don't see the sun?
 

I Take Old Things

I take old things
I take and make them stars
Music heals the soul,
I love music
 
I write poetry
I write poetry and I take old things
I give old things and take musics
 
And, I wish I were a fish in raki bottle
 

Orhan Veli

I am Orhan Veli,
Creator of the famous line
'It's a pity Süleyman Efendi had to die'.
I hear you're wondering
About my private life.
Well, I'll tell you:
First of all, I'm a man,
Not a circus animal.
I have a nose and two ears
Although they're not shapely.
I live in a house.
I have a job.
My head isn't up in the clouds.
I have no holier-than-thou attitude.
I'm neither as modest
As the King of England
Nor as aristocratic as the former groom
Of our ex-Premier's stable.
I'm fond of spinach,
And puff pastry
Is my great delight.
I don't give a damn about money or property,
I swear to God I don't.
Oktay Rifat and Melih Cevdet
Are my closest friends.
I have a girl who's very respectable,
So I can't mention her name,
I guess literary historians will have to find out.
I spend a lot of time on trivial things.
Anything I do when I'm not working
On creative stuff is trivial.
Oh, I don't know,
I probably have a thousand hang-ups.
But why list them one by one?
They're not unique.
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.

Suicide

No one should find out how I died
With a clot of blood around my mouth.
Strangers would probably remark:
'He must have been in love.'
Those who knew me, though, will say:
'Poor soul, he suffered from poverty.'
Yet the real cause would be neither of these.
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.

Did I Fall In Love?

Was I going to have such thoughts too
And spend sleepless nights
And go through quiet spells?
And never miss
My favorite salad?
Were things going to come to this?
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.

All Of A Sudden

Versions: #2
Everything happened all at once:
Daylight poured down on the earth,
Suddenly there was the sky,
Suddenly blue.
Everything happened all at once:
Smoke began to rise out of the soil,
Tendrils and buds
And fruits.
 
Everything happened
All of a sudden:
Girls and boys,
Roads and meadows, cats and people...
Love came up all of a sudden
And joy.
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.

My Tree

If we had other trees
In the neighborhood besides you
I wouldn't love you this much.
But if you could
Play quoits with us
I would have loved you much more.
 
My pretty tree!
By the time you dry up
I hope we will have moved
To some other neighborhood.
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.