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FIDE KORKMAZER ERKEN - Page 2

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Garden's White Roses The Red Roses A Little Story
In your heart The Love Tree Writing a poem
The Brook's Invitation Sweet Butterfly Naughty Love
May Good Words Be Rains Butterfly and Life Snow
Thanking Bees The gulls The Peaceful Meeting
On the beach The Little Spider on the Rose On the foggy shore
Swan small drops on rosesThe Song of Peace
the pond The Mountain Calls Me Are Trees Happy?
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Garden's White Roses

The sun rays are
On the garden's white roses
Reflections dance brush-like
Painting white, yellow
And pink colours
So proud of themselves
As guardians of innocence,
They make no pretension
To challenge beauty

Instantaneous whispers of happiness
Rise from the roses
As if all time would hide
In the beauty of this moment

The poet's pen is not strong enough
To tell of their melody
The roses know this
And smile to her silently







The Red Roses

The red roses are in the vase
On the coffee table,
They were in your hand
On the way home last night.

Their colour shines
As if to show they're so proud.

Silent are the red roses,
They don't want to disturb love.

Is red the colour of love?
Ambitious and arrogant?
Then why do I have this fear of losing it?
My heart deeply asks
What will happen to love
When they wither.

The red roses stand still!







A Little Story

Little crickets are in the fields
Hidden under the bushes.
How beautifully they sing
Without appearing.
They tell stories unceasingly,
Singing until out of breath.
They talk about green grass,
Birds and trees,
Mention the rising sun, moonlight,
The sweet breeze.

In the tender quietness of the night,
Many stories they tell.
Nobody listens to their stories,
Nobody understands.
They scream blue-murder,
Nobody hears.

Little crickets,
Don't get tired.
There must be some people
Listening to your stories,
Assimilating them with pleasure,
Longing for the new ones,
Passing by your private houses.

But it is not enough for you,
Talking about birds and trees,
Mentioning the rising sun, moonlight.
Madly you exhaust your little bodies
And scrape your sad story
Tightly into nature.
The sad story is much bigger
Than the crickets, so little.

There'll come a day
When you'll stay in the past
With your stories from nature's book.
Then nobody will know,
And nobody will hear a bit
Of your stories so sweet.







In your heart

small is happiness
in green grass
but far is happiness
in a bird's flight

as you want to get closer
it goes far away
small is happiness
in sky's clouds

happiness is a liar
says you own it
but just leaves sadness
and goes far

not possible to know
who owns it
we smile in sight
but in reality, cry

small is happiness
in green grass
but far is happiness
in a bird's flight

don't seek it
in sky clouds
it's in your heart
not so far







The Love Tree

There was an old tree
at the corner of the street
so big and imposing
that everybody tried to climb it

some people weren't strong enough
to grasp the branches
so they fell
before reaching the peak

some were too heavy
when these tried to
reside in the tree
they broke the branches

there was one person
tall, thin and gentle
he reached the top
after struggling many years

he settled there
his beautiful wife aside
but the scenery was so attractive
that he started to watch







Writing a poem

my heart trembled
wishing to write a poem
i began to look for it

looking at the clouds above
on my way to school
i saw darkness and sorrow
there was no poem there

trees were alone
on the street
i asked them to tell me a poem
but they wouldn't talk

i met children then
getting closer to home
they were laughing
i just smiled

my home welcomed me at last
untidy, alone, private to me
sitting on my ordinary chair
tiredness on my shoulders,
my gift was a poem.







The Brook's Invitation

The brook invited you,
Calm on a pebbly bank.
The enthusiasm of the high hills
Lay in the brook's plain bed.

You didn't insist on staying aside
And were seized by the brook's stray run,
Easing your soul
Into its free, boundless flow.

You were aided by icy waters,
So cold inside.
But its exuberance was hot,
Inflaming your heart.

When the brook invited you,
You couldn't stay here.
But joined the inviter,
Mixed into the freedom
In vagabond water.

You threw yourself into the water,
Washed your soul in exuberance,
Collected boundless desires,
And were ready to return.







Sweet Butterfly

Elegant tulle wings,
Little sweet creature,
Flew and perched on a flower.
You got my eyes,
My heart.
How suddenly
You disappeared.

Your beauty is
Still in my eyes,
Your love
In my heart.

You deceived me,
Sweet butterfly.







Naughty Love

Love was hidden
Under the table.
I went there
To get it
But hit my head

Love was in the kitchen.
I cooked some soup
To taste it,
But it burned my tongue.

I decided to find it
In my dreams.
I had a good sleep last night
But couldn't see anything.

Damn you, love!
Get out from under the table.
Come here!
I'll cook you in the kitchen
And taste you in my dream this night!







May Good Words Be Rains

If sounds don’t vanish in space
And all the words accumulate somewhere else
Let’s say good things to each other
Of friendship, humanity, peace and love.

Then the good words can come together
And turn back like love raining
And drop on wars
And put out hatred in hearts.

The more rains of love fall
The less all the guns will work.

We must throw away bad words
And always produce good ones
So love clouds gather together in the sky
And rain, drop by drop on the whole world.

Drops acumulate...
Wars come to an end!







Butterfly and Life

Life is a charming word
it ends at an unknown time
and has a smaller dimension than is supposed

what difference is there between us
except the sorrows we meet?
our life's diary has limited pages...
your's is one grand day,
our's last a few short years.

our bodies meet under the ground
but we are different at the door of death.
only our life dimensions are the same

little butterfly,
the rope tying us to life
is as thin as yours

you are obliged to be lost
but we are on an everlasting road
if only our hearts could be as pure as yours!







Snow

give me a small word,
inside which is a wonder's white touch
and sudden loss of time
childish happiness
enthusiastic, innocent
a small word
not love but snow!







Thanking Bees

They were there, on the water
little bees trying to save their lives
Some did, the others died
The little girl took thin wood
in order to take them out
For a few days she did so
The little bees wanted to thank her
and kissed her hands before they flew

The small pool is still in the garden
but not any bees come there
just their little, sweet remembrance
showing even bees could understand
what love and thanking meant!







The gulls

How sweet they are
fatty seagulls
They listen to the sound of the sea
and hear more beauty







The Peaceful Meeting

There was a meeting
on the shore near the calm sea
They gathered together
like a regular army

They talked a long time silently
peaceful words uttered
happy events shared

There they were
at their secret meeting
and nobody but a lonely poet
realized the sea gulls' peace event

The poet thought
they came from all over the world!







On the beach

Silence is cut by the waves
their whiteness calls innocence
The most fantastic taste is
the flight of the sea-gulls

The sound of the waves relaxes me
though there is a huge amount of water
Comparing it to the noise of the cities
it's possible to understand God's miracle

Walking on the beach rests my mind
What we possess in the world
is obliged to dissappear sometime
like sea-gulls' sudden flight







The Little Spider on the Rose

There it is,
a small creature
completely black
the little spider
on a petal,
white and pink
a large house
perfumed one
free accomodation

Little spider
how do you feel?
living on a rose
beautiful and soft
pure and innocent
we don't care about
a little spider
living on a rose
and more importantly
a little black spider
having a rose house
never cares about people!







On the foggy shore

Birds welcome you
on the foggy shore,
birds walking,
birds flying,
birds eating.
It doesn't matter to the birds
whether the weather is foggy or not,
they always fight for food.
But fog reminds us of sadness.







Swan

White finds its name on your feathers
and makes the word innocence meaningful
Your delight is to swim on a still lake
making the environment tranquil and peaceful

My eyes are captured by your appearance
giving my soul happiness and joy
What if you stay there until eternity
and I watch you, contented.







small drops on roses

rain leaves traces on roses
roses cry with these drops
nature shows her miracle
separating little water parts
on pink, red, yellow, white roses
their perfume accumulates
and mixes with the air in tiny driplets
how beautiful is this view after rainy weather







The Song of Peace

On the ground,
a man is walking,
a soldier driving his tank,
there are flowers
on both sides of the road
noone sees the flowers
the man is killed
his family cries,
and so do the flowers.
the soldier is killed,
his family cries,
and so do the flowers.
the man and the soldier,
meet beneath the ground,
and grow flowers
in an eternal garden...
the road is empty
there are no men,
nor soldiers
just flowers,
waving in the evening breeze,
singing the song of peace,
But nobody hears it!







the pond

for them there is neither time
nor problems
they feel every detail

ducks sail on water
like turtles with their thick covers
the pelican is happy with
how it catches its meal
the pond is a wonderland for animals
they feel deeply how they live







The Mountain Calls Me

The narrow path calls me
the one amongst the trees
tall and thin
on the top of the mountain
very close to the sky

I can reach the clouds there
and the biggest freedom
only the birds can have

how nice it must be
to be there







Are Trees Happy?

Is it possible for a tree to be happy?
standing still on a hill,
extremely!
Trees watch the sky
they see the clouds
with changing colours
Clouds are friends of trees
they say 'hi' to each other
and other things
only birds can understand
and join to them
Trees see the clouds
and listen to the birds' songs





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