KURU ÇALIYA DÖNERSİN..

Güzelim hep böyle kalýrým sanma,
Gazel vurmuþ yapraða dönersin,
Sanma bu güzellik bakidir sana,
Kuru Dikenli Çalýya dönersin.



Aynaya bakma sen çatlak her yanýn,
Albümde kaldý bak her günün anýn,
Buruþmuþ kýrýþmýþ kolun bacaðýn,
Boðazda can veren Yalýya dönersin.



Kimseler bakmýyor senin yüzüne,
Geçmez sözün oðlun kýzýna,
Merhemler çaresiz kalýr dizine,
Yalnýz bir Kocakarýya dönersin.



Malýn mülkün ile hava atardýn,
Dostlarýný bir çýrpýda satardýn,
Güzelliðin ile yakýp yakardýn,
Balý olmaz Kör Arýya dönersin.



Gel Sevdiðim býrak artýk inadý,
Rabbimden gelecek Celal tokadý,
Dolabým boþaldý çorbam kalmadý,
Nihayet sende Dul Karýya dönersin.



Kalbin çok paslanmýþ ciðer kalmamýþ,
Yürekte merhamet yoktu azalmýþ,
Sende o gençlik güzellik kalmamýþ,
Çok geçmez Sarý Çiyana dönersin.



Ne kadar yaþarsan yaþa boþuna,
Beni yaktýn yazýk olsun yaþýna,
Kimseler bakmýyor yüzün kaþýna,
Hele dur Aciz Karý’ya dönersin.



Çýkmazdým bilseydim yola seninle,
Hüdayi ister mi düþelim dile,
Kendin ateþe attýn bile bile,
Odunu yakan Çýraya dönersin.

21.02.2019//KIRIKKALE
HÝDAYET DOÐAN


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


RETURN TO DRY BRUSH ..

Beautiful, I don’t think I always stay like this,
You turn into a gazelle-shot leaf,
Do not think that this beauty remains to you,
You turn to a dry thorn bush.

Don’t look in the mirror, you crack everywhere,
Look, the moment of every day remained on the album,
Your wrinkled arm, your leg,
You return to the life-giving mansion in the Bosphorus.

Nobody is looking at your face
Your word does not pass to your son’s daughter,
Ointments remain helpless to the knee,
You turn to a lonely husband wife.

You would show off with your property,
You would sell your friends in a snap,
With your car you would dirte and pray
You don’t have honey, you turn into a blind bee.

Come on my love, let it be stubborn
A majesty slap from my Lord,
Children are crying, I have no soup left,
You turn to your widow at a young age.

There is no rusty liver in his heart,
Your mercy is diminished in your heart,
There is no youth, that beauty left in you,
Soon you will turn yellow back.

No matter how long you live
You burned me, shame on your age
Nobody looks at the brow on your face,
Especially stop, you turn to the helpless wife.

If I knew I wouldn’t go out on the road with you
Wish we want the hüdayi,
You’ve even thrown it into the fire yourself
You turn to the kindling that is made of fire.

21.02.2019 // KIRIKKALE
HÝDAYET DOÐAN

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