Köyüm Issız Mahzun kalmış

KÖYÜM ISSIZ VE MAHZUN KALMIŞ…

Ata ocağımda tütmez oldu duman,
Evler yıkık, sokaklarda derin bir figan.
Göç etmiş insanlar, yuvalar bomboş,
Köyümde bir hüzün, bir kimsesizlik coşmuş.

Tarlalar kurumuş, başaklar solmuş,
Göklerden yağmur değil, sessizlik dolmuş.
Çeşmeler gözyaşı döker gece gündüz,
Kimse kalmamış, sokaklar sessiz.

Kapılar kilitli, perdeler solmuş,
Taş duvarların sıvası dökülmüş, bozulmuş.
Kırlangıçlar yuva kurmaz olmuş,
Issız köyümde hayat durmuş.

Bir zamanlar harman kokardı her yan,
Koyunlar kuzular yayılırdı her an.
Şimdi tarlalar çorak, meralar suskun,
Geçmişin izleri toprakta mahzun.

Dedem nasihat ederdi: "Terk etmeyin köyü!"
Dinleyen olmadı, savruldu nesil kökü.
Şehirden gelenler köyü tanımaz oldu,
Komşuluk, akrabalık hepsi yok oldu.

Evlerin avlusunda baykuşlar öter,
Taş duvarlarında yılanlar gezer.
Bir zamanlar cıvıl cıvıl olan sokaklar,
Şimdi hayalet gibi bomboş yapraklar.

Anam babam o toprakta yatar,
Dualar semaya ard arda çıkar.
Bir cenaze için köye döner olduk,
Gelenler gidince köyde yine unutulduk.

Yol uzun, köy ıssız, çamur diz boyu,
Mezarlıkta taşlar bile hüzün dolu.
Sessizliğe bürünmüş köyün meydanı,
Bir zamanlar neşeyle çalan kapılar artık kapalı.

Ormanda rüzgâr, tepede kartal,
Ama köyde ne duman var ne de hayal.
Gözlerim dolar, içimden bir of çekerim,
Ah köyüm, nasıl da yalnızlıkla beklerim.

Şehir havası kirletmiş gönülleri,
Nesiller unutmuş eski değerleri.
Helali haramı bilmez olmuş çoğu,
Köyde bereket kalmamış, olmuş virane boyu.

Tilki, tavşan, doğa bile şaşkın,
Gelen giden insanlara bakar kaygılı bakışın.
Köyümün çeşmesi gözyaşı döker,
"Ne olur gitmeyin!" diye sessizce der.

Geri dönmek isterim her defasında,
Ama yollar uzun, gönlüm yasta.
Bir gün dönersem eğer son nefesimde,
Köyümde yatarım, atalarımın dizlerinde.

Issız kalmış köyüm, yıkılmış damların,
Baykuş sesleri dolmuş avluların.
Ah köyüm, bekle beni sabırla,
Bir gün döneceğim sonsuz bir huzurla

MY VILLAGE IS LEFT DESERTED AND SAD…

The smoke no longer rises in my ancestral hearth,
The houses are in ruins, there is a deep wailing in the streets.MY VILLAGE IS LEFT DESERTED AND SAD…

The smoke no longer rises in my ancestral hearth,
The houses are in ruins, there is a deep wailing in the streets.
People have migrated, homes are empty,
TheS LEFT DESERTED AND SAD…

The smoke no longer rises in my ancestral hearth,
The houses are in ruins, there MY VILLAGE IS LEFT DESERTED AND SAD…

The smoke no longer rises in my ancestral hearth,
The houses are in ruins, there is a deep wailing in the streets.
People have migrated, homes are MY VILLAGE IS LEFT DESERTED AND SAD…

The smoke no longer rises in my ancestral hearth,
The houses are in ruins, there is a deep wailing in the streets.
People have migrated, homes are empty,
There is sadness and loneliness in my village.

The fields are dry, the ears of corn are withered,
It is not rain that has fallen from the skies, but silence.
Fountains shed tears day and night,
There is no one left, the streets are silent.

The doors are locked, the curtains are faded,
The plaster of the stone walls has been poured, degraded.
Swallows do not build nests,
Life has stopped in my deserted village.

Once upon a time there was a smell of threshing all over,
Sheep and lambs were grazing all the time.
Now the fields are barren, the pastures are silent,
The traces of the past are buried in the soil.

My grandfather used to advise: "Don't leave the village!"
No one listened, the root of the generation was thrown away. of the past are buried in the soil.

My grandfather used to advise: "Don't leave the village!"
No one listened, the root of the generation was thrown away.
Those we traces of the past are buried in the soil.

My grandfather used to advise: "Don't leave the village!"
No one listened, the root of the generation was thrown awe traces of the past are buried in the soil.

My grandfather used to advise: "Don't leave the village!"
No one listened, the root of the generation was thrown away.
ThosThe traces of the past are buried in the soil.

My grandfather used to advise: "Don't leave the village!"
No one listened, the root of the generation was thrown away.
Those who came from the city no longer knew the village,
Neighborhood and kinship all disappeared.

Owls hoot in the courtyards of the houses,
Snakes crawl on the stone walls.
Streets that were once chirpy,
Now the leaves are empty like ghosts.

My mother and father lie in that soil,
Prayers go up to heaven Decently one after another.
We returned to the village for a funeral,
When the visitors left, we were forgotten in the village again.

The road is long, the village is deserted, the mud is knee-deep,
Even the stones in the cemetery are full of sadness.
The square of the village shrouded in silence,
The doors that once rang merrily are now closed.

The wind in the forest, the eagle on the hill,
But there is no smoke in the village, no dreams. doors that once rang merrily are now closed.

The wind in the forest, the eagle on the hill,
But there is no smoke in the village, no dreams.
My eyes filThe doors that once rang merrily are now osed.

The wind in the forest, the eagle on the hill,
But there is no smoke in the village, no dreams.
My eyes fill with tears, I sigh inside,
Oh my village, how I wait in lonelinesse doors that once rang merrily are now closed.

The wind in the forest, the eagle on the hill,
But there isThe doors that once rang merrily are now closed.

The wind in the forest, the eagle on the hill,
But there is no smoke in the village, no dreams.
My eyes fill with tears, I sigh inside,
Oh my village, how I wait in loneliness.

The city has polluted the hearts,
Generations have forgotten the old values.
Most of them have become unaware of what is halal and what is haram,
There is no more abundance in the village, it has become a ruin.

Even the fox, the rabbit, and nature are surprised,
You look at the people coming and going with a worried look.
The fountain of my village sheds tears,
"Please don't go!" he says quietly.

I want to come back every time,
But the roads are long, my heart is in mourning.
If I come back one day, on my last breath,
I sleep in my village, on the knees of my ancestors.

My deserted village, your ruined roofsIf I come back one day, on my last breath,
I sleep in my village, on the knees of my ancestors.

My deserted village,

Sıcak Rüzgar
Kayıt Tarihi : 20.3.2025 16:45:00