Tacettin Fidan

 Evlat


Seksen dönümlük tarla

Talih kazmış alnına

Ne ot biter ne yemiş

Artık gençlik boş raftta


Azgın delikan nerde?

Duman olmuş maziye

Şık günün hazinesi

Batmış gözler sipere


Çamur göle erimiş

Yemek içmek sahneymiş

Övgü gurur kahrola

'Görün Beni' sahteymiş


Aç bak kapı kurguya

Tamah ettin şıklığa

Bugün nasıl söversin

Dünkü düğün halaya


Neydi gelinin sırrı?

Kocan seni kızdırdı

Döktür dedi bir evlat

Yoksa falan filandı


Sende evlat bir melek

Sağ ol var ol ey felek

Hissen güzel dünyada

Nurun hiç sönmeyecek


Sen eskisin o yeni

Sen moruksun o deli

Onda kanın kaynıyor

Onda sensin yepyeni


Aynam küskün aynaya

Vaktim küskün zamana

Yaşlı değil sitemim

Yaştan ürken kafama



- İngilizce (English) -



PROGENY


Eighty acres of manned land

Fortune engraved on your forehead as planned

There, no grass nor food grows, even for the crows

Now your youth is on an empty shelf, in sighs and woes


Where is that wild ferocious young man?

His past turned into smoke that grand game plan

Treasures of the stylish bygone days now replay

Deep in their trenches and in his sunken eyes, the heyday! 


The mud melted into his knee-deep lake's rage

Eating and drinking then, was like being on a stage

Now, 'the hell with the pride and the acclaim!'

Saying: 'Hey, you all! Look at Me' was a fake claim!


Open the door and look at that fiction

You coveted elegance with no restriction

Why do you curse it today?

What was yesterday a song, a dance and all play!


What was the secret of that pretty bride?

Did her husband make her angry with his pride?

One of the sons told them, 'Folks, just have another kid!'

Or was it some such, and so forth, and so on, amid?


Your off-spring too, will be an angel with empathy

God bless you, your child and his and/or her destiny!

Your share is beautiful in this world;

Your light will never fade, adorned and pearled


Now, you are old and your child is new

You're foolish, but he is yet without any clue 

In him, your blood boils and boils, and boils

In him, you've become brand new, once more in worldly toils



(Epilogue)


My mirror is angry with its mirror;

My time is angry at a station which is nearer 

My reproach is not new nor old, on my final stroll

But my head is startled, it can't stop the 'always' that's on a roll!
























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