The Trio
we were the three...Bedirhan..Nazlican and me
three mouthes, three hearts, three sworn bullets
our names were written on the mountains
and on the rocks as trouble
a hard duty hanging from our necks
crossed guns on our bosoms
hands on trigger, ear on the bow string,
backs summitted to the soil
we embraced each other under the stars as blankets
the sea was far, far away
and loneliness made us sick
all nights, the jackal howlings along the cliffs
struck our faces, our breads and our songs and wavered away
nazlican rubbed our chests with thyme
the air smelled heavily with rhyme
we gazed at her secretly
in case our hearts would be broken easily
mAy be we have lost her in the sound of a pipe of a shepard
she joined to the fire flies
glittering and exhausting with them
she was left as a delicate dead butterfly among us
and went in blazes like a bullet, like a mine
OH..nazlican..the wild she deer of the wild slopes
oh..nazlican..hair combed with the winds
how could you go like that
to the land of the stars
oh nazlican..wounded from her bosom
nazlican..you serene plain flower
nazlican..you crazy emotion
a love butterfly on my bosom on earth
nazlican..the soul I have offered to death,
and now..we were in distress like a beaten army
with worn out parkas and hearts
the remainig was the sensing of death
the rest was deaf silence
we went..with the absence of nazlican in us
then they had shot bedirhan in a little valley
but he had broken the fierce besieges
and gone out
then like a gun gliding from the shoulder silently
he shivered, his arms fell to his sides helplessly
death, surrounded him from everywhere like a nettle thorn
his body..like a big tree..tumbled down in the moonlight
I streched my arms and touched his eyes with a dropp of tear in my eyes
the silenced pulse of his wrist still on my chest
it was like a joke
it looked he would wake a little later
as if he will revive the fire mixing and wrapping a cigarette
but death..was faithful to his date as always
like nazlican he would never be among us
Oh bedirhan...the phantom of the pitch nights
oh bedirhan..trouble of the treachery traps
were you a man exhausting like this
stand up speak to me..speak even a little bit
oh bedirhan..his grave..the nest of the eagle
bedirhan..the fugitive of the purple mountains,
bedirhan..his blue eyes falcon
Istabbed a silent dagger in my secret place
bedirhan..i have your blood still on my white shirt
we were the three..we were the suicide flowers three
bedirhan..nazlican and me
and I was left alone with a weeping dagger in me
Yusuf HAYALOGLU..Translation metin sahin
poem by Metin Sahin
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Related quotes
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
the unavoidable
the non stopping avalanche
the ungoing circuit
i want to drink
i want to drink the moonlight in your eyes
to reach
i want to reach secrecy of the soul in your eyes
why and how
where are your eyes now
you were a soul
hidden in my secret soul
it was not blood
but our love was flowing into the nights
when the executor tightened the rope on our throats
i want to
i want to listen to the three trees in your eyes
i want to be silent
to be silent in your eyes
like a sharp blade
why and how
where are your relieving eyes now
Ahmet ARIF
Translation Metin SAHIN
poem by Metin Sahin
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A Phantom In The Mediterranean
a phantom is haunting the mediterranean sea
it is the phantom of an italian soldier
his jacket with torn out buttans on his back filthy
his flesh pierced into pieces
and his temples bloody
fearing to fall intoı the space
his voice is echoing
he is screaming in the mediterranean
and he embraces the sun at daylight
then embraces the stars at night
ı know this soul
he was a fugitive soldier when alive
if he had not been shot to death
he would have lived for many many years now
this is the soul ı know
he fled in arduva from the war-front
he ran away in haste
leaving his fire-arm behind
like an animal running away from fire
neither for his ideas
nor for his claims righteous
he ran away only for not bto die
but only to survive
till then he did not know anything about death
he never read hamlet nor a poem fron dante
he had not ever a slight idea about death
about the mystery of it described in the books
when he was being shot to death
suıddeenly a wedding prayer has come tpo his mind
and he began to recite that prayer
when the guns aimed to him fired
he was not fearing from death
he was fearing from being dead
he wanted most
only to li, ve..only to survive
above all..above everything
he only wanted to survive
with women
without women
satisfied..fed up
or hungry
he only wanted to live
like an ordinary tree
ordinary bird
ordinary cloud
ordinary fish
to live like
water in a glass
or oil
like fistful of soıl
he was fearing from being dead
wanting not to be dead
but he wanted only to survive
only to live a life ordinary
on one morning
when a flower was sprotıng and blooming on his stem
he was being shot to death unknowing and unaware
now
it is his phantom
haunting the mediterranean
him..nobody nobody knows and feels
but only ı can feel and see
nazım HİKMET
translatıon Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Eyes of Death
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death
poem by Jade DragonHeart
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A Day Like This
it was such a lovely day
like this
sunny and hot
in a day like this
in flower fragrance
bright and glittering
your kisses changed
my bosom
sworn not to kiss
sealed for kisses
itwas such a day like this
filled with bisrd singings
and happy children screamings
your returning
made my bosom a pair with yours
my bosom which was fed up with loneliness
and longing for you
it was such a lovely day
a day boring us with its yellow heat
when
i was in bare feet
walking on the roads
and impatiently waiting for you
it was sucha a lovely day
like this
your sudden death
has made me collapsed
and made me upset
Ferda BAYKAL
Translation Metin SAHIN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Go Down, Death
Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband--weep no more;
Grief-stricken son--weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter --weep no more;
She only just gone home.
Day before yesterday morning,
God was looking down from his great, high heaven,
Looking down on all his children,
And his eye fell of Sister Caroline,
Tossing on her bed of pain.
And God's big heart was touched with pity,
With the everlasting pity.
And God sat back on his throne,
And he commanded that tall, bright angel standing at his right hand:
Call me Death!
And that tall, bright angel cried in a voice
That broke like a clap of thunder:
Call Death!--Call Death!
And the echo sounded down the streets of heaven
Till it reached away back to that shadowy place,
Where Death waits with his pale, white horses.
And Death heard the summons,
And he leaped on his fastest horse,
Pale as a sheet in the moonlight.
Up the golden street Death galloped,
And the hooves of his horses struck fire from the gold,
But they didn't make no sound.
Up Death rode to the Great White Throne,
And waited for God's command.
And God said: Go down, Death, go down,
Go down to Savannah, Georgia,
Down in Yamacraw,
And find Sister Caroline.
She's borne the burden and heat of the day,
She's labored long in my vineyard,
And she's tired--
She's weary--
Do down, Death, and bring her to me.
And Death didn't say a word,
But he loosed the reins on his pale, white horse,
And he clamped the spurs to his bloodless sides,
And out and down he rode,
Through heaven's pearly gates,
Past suns and moons and stars;
on Death rode,
Leaving the lightning's flash behind;
Straight down he came.
While we were watching round her bed,
She turned her eyes and looked away,
She saw what we couldn't see;
She saw Old Death.She saw Old Death
Coming like a falling star.
But Death didn't frighten Sister Caroline;
He looked to her like a welcome friend.
And she whispered to us: I'm going home,
And she smiled and closed her eyes.
And Death took her up like a baby,
And she lay in his icy arms,
But she didn't feel no chill.
And death began to ride again--
Up beyond the evening star,
Into the glittering light of glory,
On to the Great White Throne.
And there he laid Sister Caroline
On the loving breast of Jesus.
And Jesus took his own hand and wiped away her tears,
And he smoothed the furrows from her face,
And the angels sang a little song,
And Jesus rocked her in his arms,
And kept a-saying: Take your rest,
Take your rest.
Weep not--weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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The Death Of A Beloved
there is your dear cdead one there
at home
his or her photograph ıs stuck
somewhere in an esteemed corner
you look at it
without seeing it in sorrows
when they talk about your dead one
your heart hurts and deeply aches
secretly and silently
some tears on youyr eyes
at first
like all the other dead ones
yıur dear dead one
haunts the house at night
this lingers on for months till morning
and now..sometimes
sometime
it appears n unexpected moments
mostly when you feel terribly lonely
there is your dear dead one over there
at first
the empty place it has left
in your bed behind
is exteremely grieving
and then..as time goes by
the mourning ages
with the wearing off sheets
and like
aged..precious wine
it is tasted sometimes
in just one small cup
there is your dead one
in the twilight
lıke all the other dead ones
it is more closer to you
but seen more unclear
unclearly visible
there is yoıur dead one over there
in faCT
it is lying in the grave
itys flesh not wholly decayed yet
its hands and feet moving a bit
ı knelt down and looked at the soil
ı looked at the grass
ı looked at the beetles
ı looked at the flowers blue blooming
you looked like the spring soil my beloved
ı gazed at you admiring
then ı lay down
my back on the ground
ı see the sky above
ı see the limbs of the trees
ı see the flyıng storks
ı see dreams awake my eyes open
you also look like the sky of the season spring
there
ı see you my beloved
at night
ı lit a fire in the wilderness
ı touch the fire
ı touch the water
ı touch the cloth
ı touch the silver
you lok like the fire
lit under the stars
ı touch you
ı am among the human beings
ı like the human beings
ı like the movements
ı like the thoughts
ı lişke my struggles
ı like all the struggles aimed for goodness
and you
you are a human being in the season spring
my beloved
ı still love you
Nazım HİKMET..Translatıon Metin SAHIN
,
poem by Metin Sahin
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Men With Broken Hearts
You'll meet many just like me upon life's busy street
With shoulders stooped and heads bowed low and eyes that stare in defeat
Or souls that live within the past where sorrow plays all parts
Where a living death is all that's left for men with broken hearts
You have no right to be the judge to criticize and condemn
Just think but for the grace of God it would be you instead of him
One careless step a thoughtless deed and then the misery starts
And to those who weep death comes cheap these men with broken hearts
Oh so humble you should be when they come passing by
For it's written that the greatest men never get too big to cry
Some lose faith in love and life when sorrow shoots her darts
And with hope all gone they walk alone these men with broken hearts
You've never walked in that man's shoes or saw things through his eyes
Or stood and watched with helpless hands while the heart inside you dies
Some were propers some were kings and some were masters of the arts
But in their shame they're all the same these men with broken hearts
Life sometimes can be so cruel that a heart will pray for death
God why must these living dead know pain with every breath
So help your brother along the road no matter where he starts
For the God that made you made them too these men with broken hearts
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ironic Life
How Ironic life is...
I smile- but the madness of a dying soul was written on my face.
I laugh- but serene sadness was painted on my eyes.
I talk and talk but hide the secrets
till i found myself in my own silence.
Silence is pure, but silence poisons the soul.
See me now broken as you made me whole before.
How ironic love is...
I drank the cup of Love
though i know it is poisonous.
Now i lost the man i loved the most.
And our story is lost in silence,
lost with the wind.
I cant remember how happy i had been.
How ironic love is...
he who survives me, snared my soul;
with a snare which bled me to death.
There is something about death like love itself.
Now i see myself as a lifeless soul;
like a broken-winged eagle facing his fall.
How ironic life is...
it started as fire,
till the fire is nothing but a light.
It takes life to understand this ironic life!
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Dying
ı would like to die before you die
do you think that
the one who comes after
will find the one who has gone before
I do not think so
it is better you burn my body
and put the remnant ashes in an urn
placed on a shelf on the fire-place
the urn must be made up of transparent white glass
so that you can see me in it
you see
how self-sacrificing I am
I do not want to be terracotta
I do not want to be a flower
but want to be ash
to live together with you
and after sometime
when you die too
you will come into the urn also
and we will then live there together
with your ashes mixed in my ashes
till the day
when one of our clumsy brides
or an unloyal grandson without care
throw the urn out from there
but we
till then
we will be mixed with each other completely
our molecules will fall beside each other
side by side
in the wasteland to which we will be thrown
we will then dive into the soil together
and one day out
when a wild flower will sprout
from this little piece of soil
in her stem
there will bloom certainly two flowers
ı am certain
I know
one is you
and the other is me
but I..
I do not think of dying yet
my blood is still boılıng and flowing
I will give birth to off-springs yet
life is occupying inside me and overflowing
I will live with you together
more and more
I am not afraid of death also
but I not like the way of our held funeral ceremony
may be it will be changed
till the day we die
ıs there a chance of yours
to be freed and released from the prisons nowadays
some voice from inside me says
''PERHAPS''
1947
Piraye Nazım HİKMET
translation Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Tryst
I raised the veil, I loosed the bands,
I took the dead thing from its place.
Like a warm stream in frozen lands
My lips went wandering on her face,
My hands burnt in her hands.
She could not stay me, being dead;
Her body here was mine to hold.
What if her lips had lost their red?
To me they always tasted cold
With the cold words she said.
Did my breath run along her hair,
And free the pulse, and fire the brain,
My wild blood wake her wild blood there?
Here eyelids lifted wide again
In a blue, sudden stare.
Beneath my fierce, profane caress
The whole white length of body moved;
The drowsy bosom seemed to press
As if against a breast beloved,
Then fail for weariness.
No, not that anguish! Christ forbid
That I should raise such dead! I rose,
Stifled the mouth with lilies, hid
Those eyes, And drew the long hair close,
And shut the coffin lid.
My cold brow on the cold wood laid,
Quiet and close to-night we lie.
No cruel words her lips have said.
I shall not take nor she deny.
The dead is with the dead.
poem by Muriel Stuart
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Her Bliss
Death is in the flower's heart –
Why to cry for life of any petal?
Death in purple ink of weary pens
Betrays the written yearnings
On her scented paper.
Death is laughing in her cry;
Her broken heart forlorn upon the sleeve.
Death ignores the plight of any purity –
He doesn’t care or seem to be aware of
What her dewy eye desires,
For Death beckoned:
'Embrace the jar! '
And yes, she did –
For Death, of course.
After all, no other man would
Open up her hand and bid her with a kiss,
So Death became her bliss.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Silence In September
Sometimes when I laugh I feel so guilty
For a moment I've forgotten, then I remember the sounds of your laughter and my eyes mist
I haven't come to accept yet the absence of your laughter
Silence of a home has its own agony
I never knew there would be a September without you
September with its endless sadness, its loneliness
Everything reminds me of you -- the color of wild flowers,
the smell of autumn air, the sound of creek water flowing over rocks, the mournful sound of a dove--
Small things I never noticed before
Death brings such poignancy, such humility
One is left so defenseless
Before I was never aware that the mornings rays of a September sun are somehow different
They appear to have a more golden glow as they caress the leaves
Perhaps sensing a coming farewell
Time is meaningless now
Our hearts broken
Something infinitely precious was stolen away from us
Days are long
Some we don't know how we'll get through
We feel so wasted, so empty, an eternal emptiness without you
poem by Barbara M. Thomas
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Comes Death (A song)
'Out the window lies the future,
where we can see, but never reach her.' - P.N.
All the world is hopeless,
All the sights been seen
all the land is bought up
all the dreams been dreamed
The end comes to everything
to every time - to every place
comes death on wings of fire
cones death on wings of dark
All the years are fruitless
all the work's been done
all the curses lifted
all the prizes won
The end comes to everything
to every dream - to all that's green
comes death with eyes of fire
comes death with eyes of dark
All the difference taken
all the people same
all that's war is broken
all this peace is lame
The end comes to everything
to every war - to every peace
comes death with thoughts of fire
comes death with thoughts of dark
All the gold is rusted
all the cities gone
all the wind is hollow
all the lights left on
The end comes to everything
to every story - every theme
comes death on tireless mission
comes death with darkened peace
poem by Poet Dragon
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Till We Cease
i'll take the plunge
before you
let us meet death as one
together
walking alone together forever
take my hand
as you took my heart
death steals my pulse
as you stole my heart
past the first time, to the wedding band
death cant break our hands apart
i know it in the flecks of your eyes
even if we die
our hearts wont die
a single solitude together
we walk together
alone and consumed in death
forever
promise you wont ever
let my hand
my heart
go
the fire in you soul
lights our way
hoping its a blackhold
just think....
lost forever
together
with my love
catch the blood flow
in the heart
the beat of my heart
in sync with the beat of our steps
maybe well stop to rest
make me yours
make you mine
you inside me, inside this night
and at the end
of forever
hold my hand tight
dont let go
till we cease to breath this dank death
you had my life, and now the rest
with your eyes holding my eyes
our eyes a firelight
of passion
torches burning to the soul
my guide through a blackhole
my hand and yours melted so tight
making eachother ours in this night
firelight your eyes
the love that never dies
poem by Kathryn Garner
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Death
Death is a gift from heavens above,
Death is something you can not run from,
Death is something you can not regret,
Death is a wish,
A wish you might soon to regret,
Death can scare you,
You can not cheat death's design,
Death is not a game,
Death is something you might not win,
When you number is called you know death is calling for you,
Theres no pain, No more regrets, No more broken hearts,
Someday soon we all will die in deaths arms.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Uninterrupted Poetry
From the sea to the source
From mountain to plain
Runs the phantom of life
The foul shadow of death
But between us
A dawn of ardent flesh is born
And exact good
that sets the earth in order
We advance with calm step
And nature salutes us
The day embodies our colours
Fire our eyes the sea our union
And all living resemble us
All the living we love
Imaginary the others
Wrong and defined by their birth
But we must struggle against them
They live by dagger blows
They speak like a broken chair
Their lips tremble with joy
At the echo of leaden bells
At the muteness of dark gold
A lone heart not a heart
A lone heart all the hearts
And the bodies every star
In a sky filled with stars
In a career in movement
Of light and of glances
Our weight shines on the earth
Glaze of desire
To sing of human shores
For you the living I love
And for all those that we love
That have no desire but to love
I’ll end truly by barring the road
Afloat with enforced dreams
I’ll end truly by finding myself
We’ll take possession of earth
poem by Paul Eluard
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Death, My Friend
Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.
Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?
Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!
Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Trouble
Trouble, oh trouble set me free,
I have seen your face and its to much for today
Trouble, oh trouble cant you see
Eating my heart away, and theres nothing much left of me
I drunk your wine
You have made your world mine
So wont you be fair
Oh wont you be fair
I dont no more of you
So wont you be kind to me
And let me go there
I have to go there
Trouble oh trouble move away,
I have seen your face and its to much for me today
Trouble oh trouble cant you see
You have made me a wreck now wont you leave me in my misery
Ive seen your eyes
And I have seen death disguised, oh hanging on me
Oh hanging on me
Im deep and torn
Im shattered and lost and worn
Too shocking to see
Too shocking to see
Trouble oh trouble please be kind
I dont wanna fight and I havnt got a lot of time.
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Faces In My Mind
there are always two remaining faces
that dominated my mind,
the first one has the face of the body that i want to sleep with
but which i cannot really live with
it is a cruise
perhaps only for three days
then i disembark looking for the next face,
the second is one that i want to spend the rest of my life
but which does not make me wonder
my imagination is shrinking
into a barren land, into shores without waves, into skies without
the stars, into a night deep into the woods
where jackals live
in both faces, my blue butterfly of love and affection
does not hover, as it merely flutters from one flower to another
unable to decide which one
i know the reason why
my soul is restless
my heart had long been dead
in both faces, i fear death no more,
where shall i go somehow is not my worry
i have placed my hands in the hands of God
let Him write everything, i shall face Him weeping
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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