Wednesday, February 6, 2008


Stay Back Death

fire balls are falling from the sky
I am climbing up to hills with children I have embraced
the sea is boiling far down
green grasses under my bare feet
and fires I am trying to avoid...

“while walking alone with death he was seen
unafraid of her scythe...” says Machado of Lorca in his verses
“death, my beautiful gipsy, you are my death yesterday and today,
Oh! How eased I am when alone with you,
While inhaling the air of Granada
My Granada!”

together, arm in arm with death we walk for long
sometimes death even gets tired and gives the scythe on his hand to us
we are the ones deprived of fear, tired of travel
the ease of being alone with death is distant from us
life catches up from behind
trying to hold our flowing hair
the hills I am trying to climb, under the fireballs
the dark blue boiling up, ready to swallow
the children, the people on my lap
while I am inhaling the air of Anatolia
my Anatolia!
not very different from Lorca’s Granada
yet death, you are not beautiful, were not in yesterday, not in today
I cannot be alone with you, I cannot feel eased with you…

my hands are full
green grasses under my bare feet
and fireballs all over clashing souls
stay back death, didn’t Anatolia suffer enough from you....


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