Yarası Olan Şiir
Bayram sabahıydı, niyet kurbanaydı,
Yüreğim şiirle dolu, elim duadaydı.
Karaoğlan’ı severdim, yazdım adına,
Kim derdi ki yara düşer kanadına...
Canı yakan bazen en sevdiğin olur,
Şiire konu olan da seni vurur.
Sevdiğinle sınanırsın bir anda,
Gözyaşın damlar dualar yanında.
Arayanlar oldu, gönlüm teselli buldu,
Lâkin nice dostlarım kaza ile savruldu.
Ben “ah” derken, onlar ölümle yarıştı,
Şükrettim halime, beterin beteri varmıştı.
Ağabeyim bile suçladı beni,
Oysa kader yazar kendi rengini.
Kan akacaksa durmaz damarda,
Teslim oldum ben Rabbimin kararına.
İki hafta geçti sessiz duvarlarla,
Bayram geçti, ben evde yaralarımla.
İşe gidemedim, kalakaldım yerimde,
Hayat aktı durdu, ben kaldım geride...
Ev halkına mahcup, işe de dertliydim,
Bir hastane köşesinde kendime geldiydim.
Bir baktım ki nice canlar yatıyor orada,
Benim ki ne ki, bin şükür her yaramı sarmada.
Tövbe ettim, döndüm yine özümle,
Rabbime sığındım her gözyaşıyla, sözümle.
Hayat dışarda devam ediyor hâlâ,
Biz de devam etmeli, düşsek de yollarda.
Kalbimiz kırılsa da umut olmalıyız,
Kırmadan dökmeden ışık saçmalıyız.
Belki birinin gecesine güneş oluruz,
Bir yaraya merhem, bir cana dokunuruz.
Rabbim iyilerle yolumuzu bir eylesin,
Kötülüklerden uzak, hayırlarla süslesin.
Düşsek de kalkarız, umutla yeniden,
Hayatın şiiri yazılır her nefesle, yeniden...
Poetry With a Wound
It was the morning of the feast, the intention was sacrifice,
My heart was full of poetry, my hand was in prayer.
I loved Karaoğlan, I wrote in his name,
Who would have thought that the wound would fall on his flank...
Sometimes what hurts is your favorite,
The subject of the poem will also shoot you.
You will be tested by the one you love in an instant,
Your tears are dripping with prayers next to you.
There have been callers, my heart has found comfort,
But many of my friends were thrown away by accident.
When I said “oh”, they competed with death,
I was grateful to myself, it had got worse.
Even my brother blamed me,
Whereas fate writes its own color.
If blood is flowing, it will not stop in the vein,
I have submitted to the decision of my Lord.
Two weeks have passed with silent walls,
The holiday has passed, I am at home with my wounds.
I couldn't go to work, I stayed in my place,
Life has stopped flowing, I have been left behind...
I was embarrassed for the people at home, I was also worried about work,
I came to my senses in a hospital corner.
I looked at how many lives were lying there,
What is mine, a thousand thanks for healing every wound.
I have repented, I have returned again with my essence,
I have taken refuge with my Lord with every tear, with my word.
Life is still going on outside,
We have to keep going, too, even if we fall on the roads.
Even though our hearts are breaking, we must have hope,
We must scatter light without breaking it, without shedding it.
Maybe we'll be the sun for someone's night,
We apply ointment to a wound, we touch a life.
May the Lord guide our way with the righteous,
Let him decorate with good, away from evil.
Even if we fall, we will get up again with hope,
The poetry of life is written with every breath, again...
Kayıt Tarihi : 23.6.2025 15:56:00
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