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HERGÜN AĞLARIM..
HİDAYET DOĞAN OSMANOĞLU

HERGÜN AĞLARIM..




Günah yýðýnýyla geçti günlerim,
Boþa geçen bunca yýla aðlarým,
Hayal meyal masal oldu dünlerim,
Sonu çabuk biten yola aðlarým.



Gençlik rüya gibi hemence geçti,
Olgunluk çaðlarý hýzla tükendi,
Ýhtiyarlýk geldi belim eðildi,
Ucu elde kalan dala aðlarým.



Derdi verdi Mevlam derman aradým,
Vermiyor diyerek nasýl kýzardým,
Ýstedim hayýrlý hergün yalvardým,
Duasý tutmayan dile aðlarým.



Günlerim azaldý kabir yaklaþtý,
Kefenim dokundu duam sýklaþtý,
Aðacým biçildi sýram yaklaþtý,
Tahtadan yapýlmýþ sala aðlarým.



Okuyup Kur’aný ederim dua,
Bir gün de bizlere gelecek sýra,
Bizde gireceðiz kara topraða,
Cenazem taþýyan kola aðlarým.



Hayýra koþarým onla coþarým,
Kalan ömrüm azdýr Hakka koþarým,
Severim Resulu selam yollarým,
Bendini yýkmayan sele aðlarým.



Varsam Ravzasýna bir kere öpsem,
Dünyada ukbada Resulu görsem,
Ayaðýn altýna yüzümü sersem,
Salasýz ezansýz Kula aðlarým.



Girsem cennetine Rabbimi görsem,
Havz-ý Kevserinden bir kere içsem,
Hüdayi sýratý kolayca geçsem,
Narýnda yanacak bele aðlarým.

09.05.2017//KIRIKKALE
HÝDAYET DOÐAN

.....................................................................

I NET EVERYDAY ..


My days have been filled with sins
I cry for so many wasted years,
My yesterday was a vague tale,
I cry for the road that ends quickly.

Youth passed like a dream,
Their maturity was quickly exhausted,
Old age came, my waist bowed,
I cry to the branch, whose end is in hand.

Mawlam gave me trouble, I looked for a remedy,
How would I get angry saying it doesn’t give
I wanted to beg good everyday
I cry in the hand that does not pray.

My days are less and the grave is getting closer,
My shroud touched my prayer,
My tree has been cut and my turn is near,
I cry in the woods made of wood.

I read and pray the Quran,
One day it will come to us,
We will enter the black earth too,
I cry for the arm carrying my funeral.

I run to the waste, get excited with him,
My remaining life is short, I run to the right,
I love the Messenger, I send greetings,
I cry in the flood that does not bring me down.

If I exist, if I kiss his Ravza once,
If I see the Resul with kindness in the world,
Under my feet I daze my face,
I cry without pain, without pain.

If I enter your paradise and see my Lord,
If I drink from Havz-ý Kevser once,
If I pass the hüdayi row easily,
I cry for the wish that will burn on your pomegranate.

09.05.2017 // KIRIKKALE
HÝDAYET DOÐAN









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