Завтра, на рассвете...

Лишь солнца робкий луч осветит степь с утра,
Пущусь я в долгий путь. Ты ждёшь меня, любя.
Пусть лес передо мной, пусть на пути гора,
Я долго не могу вдали и без тебя.

И в думы погружён, с скрещёнными руками,
Не слыша пенья птиц, не видя красок дня
Пойду, согбенный я бессонными ночами,-
Печаль сплела в венок день с ночью для меня.

Ни золотой закат, ни вереницу волн,
Несущих паруса, я не замечу, нет.
Придя, я положу на твой могильный холм
Зелёный остролист и вересковый цвет.

son

Tomorrow, as soon as it is dawn, at the hour when the land turns white,
I will leave. You see? I know you are waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go past the mountain,
I cannot stay far from you any longer.

I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
seeing nothing else, hearing no sound,
alone, unknown, my back bent, my hands crossed,
sad, and day for me will be like night.

I will not look at the gold of the falling evening,
nor at the sails in the distance going down to Harfleur.
And when I arrive, I will put on your grave
a sprig of green holly and of heather in bloom.



Demain, dès l'aube, à l'heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m'attends.
J'irai par la forêt, j'irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l'or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j'arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.




Yarın erkenden kırlar ağardığı zaman
Gideceğim... biliyorum beni bekliyorsun bak,
Geçip gideceğim dağlardan, ormanlardan
Daha fazla kalmayacağım senden uzak
.
Gözlerim düşüncelerime saplı yürüyeceğim,
Duymadan hiçbir haber, hiçbir şey görmeden,
Yalnız, kimsesiz, birbirine kenetli ellerim
Gideceğim, farkı yok gündüzümün gecemden.

Ne uzaklarda Harfleur'ü saran perdelere
Bakacağım, ne de inen altın renkli akşama
Kavuşunca bir bağ yeşil çoban püskülü ve
Bir çiçekli funda koyacağım mezarına.

Victor Hugo

nite

Saying who am I, to who am I saying these and why?
And what am I, what are these things?
And who is consuming my wills?
Without even seeing
Even without being
A word fell upon us
With an unreasonable beauty of a silver knife
In a sudden shiver: is everything over?
As leaving me aside and departing
To the land of worn bodies, broken bottles, dusty pill boxes
As departing and leaving me aside
As leaving me aside alone
As leaving me aside lonely
How many times alone and how many times lonely
Yet many times human I will try to be…

...........

I forgave and I grew up.. Knowing that nothing is going to ever-change..
Now the cold nights of my childhood progress to the second half of my youth. I’ll grow up some more in the November’s groin.

solomon

Set me as a seal upon thine heart,
As a seal upon thine arm,
For love is strong as death
Jealousy is cruel as the grave.
The coals thereof
Are coals of fire,
Which hath a most vehement flame.

so far away

I wish I could tell those fuzzy memories
Before they were all erased
And almost nothing remained

It was in August I think
Yes, it was an August evening
You were wearing jasmines
I think I remember your eyes
Ah yes, they were blue
Like blue sapphire skies

So long ago, from my teenage years
I wish I could tell those fuzzy memories

tarrango

My blood is boiling
My brain is overheated
I'm not master of my senses
So I can't be guilty

tarrangoooo lalalaaa

dirty august

You are truly useful since you are beautiful, I said to my little prince.

"Where are the people?" resumed my little prince at last. "It's a little lonely in the desert..."

"It is lonely when you're among people, too," I said

"What makes the desert beautiful," said my little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well."

You have to see!

But the eyes are blind. One must look with the heart... It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.

wicked love

Get down, get down, little Henry Lee
And stay all night with me
You won't find a girl in this damn world
That will compare with me
And the wind did howl and the wind did blow

She leaned herself against a fence
Just for a kiss or two
And with a little pen-knife held in her hand
She plugged him through and through
And the wind did roar and the wind did moan

Come take him by his lilly-white hands
Come take him by his feet
And throw him in this deep deep well
Which is more than one hundred feet
And the wind did howl and the wind did blow

Lie there, lie there, little Henry Lee
Till the flesh drops from your bones
For the girl you have in that merry green land
Can wait forever for you to come home
And the wind did howl and the wind did moan
La la la la la
La la la la lee
A little bird lit down on Henry Lee

after yesterday/before tomorrow

You will need to know the difference between Friday and a fried egg. It's quite a simple difference, but an important one. Friday comes at the end of the week, whereas a fried egg comes out of a chicken. Like most things, of course, it isn't quite that simple. The fried egg isn't properly a fried egg until it's been put in a frying pan and fried. This is something you wouldn't do to a Friday, of course, though you might do it on a Friday. You can also fry eggs on a Thursday, if you like, or on a cooker. It's all rather complicated, but it makes a kind of sense if you think about it for a while.

maymun

istahliyim cok.. baksana ne cok olmus yazmayali..

the bastard of istanbul's nihilist manifesto

1- If you cannot find a reason to love the life you are living, do not pretend to love the life you are living.
2- The overwhelming majority of people never think and those who think never become the overwhelming majority. Choose your side!
3- If you cannot choose, then just exist; be a mushroom or a plant.
4- If you do not have interest in their answers, then don not ask questions.
5- If you have no reason or ability to accomplish anything, then just practice the art of becoming.
6- If you have no reason or ability to practice the art of becoming, then just be.
7- If you have no reason or ability to be, then just endure.
8- If between the society and the Self there lies a cavernous ravine and upon it only a wobbly bridge, you might as well burn that bridge and stay on the side of the Self, safe and sound, unless it is the ravine that you are after.
9- If the ravine inside enthralls you more than the world outside, you might as well fall in it, fall into yourself.

oooohh

bitti... sonunda... amaaann ooh oohh yandan...

o

o gun bugun

1

yek

2

dalawa

3

kolme

4

cuatro

5

خمسة

6

шесть!

7

zeven!

8

acht!

9

nine

10

onnnnnnnnnnnnn

Ne Gelir Elimizden İnsan Olmaktan Başka

Diyerek: ben kimim, kime anlatıyorum, neyi anlatıyorum
ayrıca
Neyim ben, bu olanlar ne, ya kimdir tüketen isteklerimi
Tüketen kim. Hani görmeden daha, sezmeden herşeyin bittiğini
Ama ne zaman saçları kurularken çok eski bir alışkanlıkla
Çökerken üstümüze bir sözün, bir gümüş kupanın o sebepsiz
inceliği
Ansızın bir ürperişte: bitti mi herşey bitti mi
Yoo, hayır! öyleyse kimdir tüketen isteklerimi
Bir rüzgar, duyulup binlercesi birden bir rüzgar
Birakıp giden beni bir kenara, bir uzağı, yada bir boşluğu bırakır
gibi
Ve ben ki hazırımdır bir süre unutulmaya
Ama hep sorulur gibidir benden: ben şimdi ne yapsam acaba.
Ben şimdi ne yapsam, ben şimdi ne yapsam kaç kere yalnız
Hem bunu kaç kere söylemek, ne türlü söylemek adına
Eskimiş fırçalarda, kırılmış şişelerde, tozlanmış ilaç kutularında
Okunmaz kitaplarda, uzaksı giyişlerde çocuksuz avlularda
Anlamsız kahvelerde, bir yolun çok ucunda, asılmış koyun
butlarında
Ben şimdi ne yapsam, ben işte ne yapsam kaç kere yalnız
Kaç kere yalnız, ama kaç kere yalnız, gene kaç kere insan
olmalarımla

E. Cansever

acaba

diyordum, benim disimda tiyatroya gidip gosteri sonrasi dekoru yiyen bi insan ewladi daha var midir?! varsa sayet, ivedilikle grup terapi alinmali, millete ders olsun diye ana haber bultenlerine cikarilmali..

- peki, ala!

mesela

Neither the broken mirror
Nor the candle light will remain
Dawn will break soon
Every night a new duel
Every morning a new death
All will fit in this lagoon

gocuk

We built our world with the castles of words
And hectic loneliness
The life grew up with our words and got old
Was it lived?
Or what was it that was lived?
We grew older
So did the sea, it’s not like yesterday’s sea.
Within sacred balances and glorious crowds
We forgot our names and we were deleted.
We carried the flags in the ruined seas
We both defeated and lost
And we’ve changed.
The hollow loves and great ceremonies
Started and ended again
And we diminished.

a tragedian sought

All the steps she took to change her life brought her to the very same point each time she tried: end or beginning of a cliff. She was not a promising pilgrim apparently. She was defeated every time she tried.. To be defeated better for the next time. She decided to find a tragedian one day. Not the one who makes tragedies (she was already good at it), but the one who writes them. Sisyphus had Camus, why not her? She needed the witness of a second pair of eyes. ‘This much comedy, and irony, and contradictions should not be wasted, all this crap should be crowned.’

Sirens rang again to celebrate her 1280th age. The pangs of the birth of a new life started roaring in her ears, giving only pain. Yes, life began again! Life began again for some reason, "as if a train came off the rails in her body". Fortunately, the final station is getting closer, her cries of help are still heard.

‘Do you think that pain has limits?’

All the abysses are shallow,
All the words are provisional
A song unspoken, unclaimed
Same sky, same grief
There’s nothing ever-changing
Except for a magenta death..

'Was it all a lie?’ she asked the dream she’d taken refuge in.
Said ‘it is only someone else that can be born from your ashes’.