Outsi De The Prison
outside
the birds are singing
the mountains crimson and bare
the fish-bones of the poplars
are hidden under the faded yellowish leaves
since sometime
a huge stork..patient and a hardworker
is gathering something from
the garbage-field
down there..to build her nest
when you look from here
the city seems empty and bare
the clock tower a little bit far and high
sruck eleven of the morning
all my optimism is full in me
and increasing and filling again
that never exhausted and finished yet
that is my peculiar, private treasure
ı hope and say and repeat stubbornly
we will soon be set free
ı stopped writing my letter
and I descended to the open strolling-hall
there is a magnificient sun outside..shining
oh...the lovely steppes..how I love and long for
you feel there as you are healing a bit a bit
a litle and a little
we talked about you and about this with our comrades
at this moment...to me
the world seems full of good fellows
but nevertheless the evening approaches and comes
İ n vain
we cannot help it
we cannot do anything about it
let it come
but ı am stiil hoping we will be set free very soon....
nazı m Hİ KMET RAN...
poem by Metin Sahin
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