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Come.....come Along Now

COME...before the roses fade
Come... in the middle of the night
COME..stealhily..silently..gently and in feminine style
before the fire extinguishes slowly and slowly
COME..in the serenity of dawn
COME shivering and as wet as you are
COME as you are
C OME..before the moon goes over the windows
COME..without hesitating in the dark roads
COME slowly..do not run
Without tackling anyone
COME without quarrelling with the police teams
COME without causing any troubles
COME...secretly
COME... before I come
COME now...come along now
Come before ı say come
COME before my song ends
COME when I say come
COME along..come along now..come now

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poem by Metin Sahin
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Unforgottable Eyes

you used to bloom
in my solitude...in my loneliness
blue and green
you used to bloom
rabbit blood, with henna, transparent
then i used to overcome
pains, worries and treachery
i want to go
i want to go to exile
to lie
i want to lie is dungeon in your eyes
wjy and how
where are your eyes now

it is not something like
to be or not to be
it is not
cogito ergo sun too
the real thing is
to understand

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poem by Metin Sahin
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Comparison

sometımes
I recall the best expert poet yahya kemal
of the OTTOMANS
I see him in a window-shop
obesse and unhealthy
and..why I do not know
at the same time
I remember suddenly
The lame poet BYRON
struggling and dying on the GREEK MOUNTAINS
That is not a thing may be to be proud of
But I.in an haste drilled and went out of
my ten years of my imprısonment
and leaving my liver ache aside
my bosom is the same bosom
and my mind is still the same mind
we are alone even when we lie with our beloved
with dear ones side by side
but when we are left all alone and completely lonely
the crowd of the unıverse

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poem by Metin Sahin
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Famine

Jackal..howled with a long breath into the air
and wove into the night its voice like a tolling knell
wavering from the mountains onto the plains

it is a few days away entering june
fading yellow rubbed its back against the ears of the wheats
dropping them from their long..lean stems

the water once flowing in abundance with high noise
which ground the wheat into flour went somewhere and
diminished from the water ways
the milk of the mountain fig lost
the dog grass did not grow hid themselves in their roots
the white meat of the shah cock weighing many kilos
exhausted and melted itself own
till down
for the first time
a faded ear of wheat in the middle of the plain
saw far awaythe rainless approaching white cloud
at the pinkish dawn

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poem by Metin Sahin
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Don Quixote

the warrıor of the eternal youth
obeyed his mind throbbing in his heart
and so
one day in JULY
he went for a warfare
to acquire the claims
of the beautiful...the honest and the righteous
in front of him lay the cruel world
with her malicious and stupid giants
riding on his sad but heroine horse ROSINANTE
I know
what is to be longing deeply for this
what is to be brave with a huge unprevented pounding heart
there is no other way
we do it our way
for me and for DON QUIXOTE
than
to fight with the big giant wind-mills
it is a must for us
you are right DON QUIXOTE

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poem by Metin Sahin
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The Strangest Creature Of The World

you look lıke a scorpion my friend
you live cowardly ın darkness like a scorpion
you look like a sparrow my friend
you are in the haste of a sparrow
you look like a mussel my friend
like a mussel closed and comfortable
and you are terrible my friend
like the muzzel of a volcano
your number not one
you are not five
but unfortunately there are millions of you
on the world
you look like lamb my friend
when well clad cattle dealer with cloak
raises his baton
you immediately join the herd
and proudly
you run to the slaughter house quickly
that to say word by word
you are the strangest creature of the world

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poem by Metin Sahin
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Occupation

when the dawn enlightens by the horns of my oxen
I plow the soıl with my prıde in my patient struggle
under my bare feet ı feel the soil humid and warm
with brilliant lights in my arm muscles
I forge the ıron till noon
the darkness turns to crimson
in the warmth of the afternoon
with the most greennes on their leaves
I gather the newly ripened olives
all my body and my eyes in lights
I have always have visitors in my house in every evening
my door ajar..wide open to every kınd of songs
at night ı go ınto the water knee high
and I pull the nets from the sea
full of fish mixed with the shining stars
now ı am responsible from the world
they ask me
about the human.the soıl, the darkness and the daylight
I think you understand me
I am fully occupied and busy

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poem by Metin Sahin
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Leisure

İT is two days
since ıhave been reading a book
in the garden
without moving a bit
ı have no energy even to rise my arms
the boy of my neighbour..cemile's tenant's is playing a violin
he first began playing
when ı first came here
two years ago
do.re.mi.fa.sol.la.ti, do
and now chaikovsky
it is two years
in these years
he has accomplished a great work
and I
what have I done since now
my years flowed like a sea without fish
and are flowing still so
why do ı live
I do not know

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poem by Metin Sahin
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The Hoary Memories In Winter

a day in january
in winter with hoary and grey clouds
the hoary thistles in the garden up over there
the hoary thistles with hoary poppies
the hoary frost on them
the hoary mist up and down
no finches, no birds of any kind
except the black crows and ravens
crowing up and there
hoaring covered everywhere
a hoary man strolles on them
with unsteady steps and paces
what is he after
what is he looking for
what is he searching
look at the ancient houses there
some tumbling down
some with plasters all gone
what the hoary man looks for
what is he after

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poem by Metin Sahin
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Evening In Prison

evening...falls early in prison
in vain..even if you were a dragon
neither youre expertise in struggling
or your having a brave heart like a double edged fork
help
evening filling in you delicately and slowly
sorrounds you and takes you to many longings

evening falls early in prison
fall the iron gate bolt bars of seven
on the seven closing gates suddenly
then the garden outside starts to weep
at the opposite side over there under the wall
there are three stemmed night flowers
and three roted wild violets

the cloud in the sky
on the branch of a tree the apricot
are terribly in love with the same beloved
to be in prison

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poem by Metin Sahin
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