Lovegraphy

Table of Contents
From the author……………………………………………………...3
Far away……………………………………………………………..4
Love Street 2: Leila………………………………………………….6
Love Street 2: First Spring………………………………………….12
Black water………………………………………………………….14
Smile……………………………………………………………...…17
…you name it ……………………………………………...……….19
Heavy life……………………………………………………...……24
Actrees…………………………………………………………..….26
To clear tomorrows…………………………………………...……29
A red novel………………………………………………………….30
Lovegraphy …………………………………………………………32
Life is like you…………………………………………………….. .38
From silent spring……………………………………………...……42
Wingless in the sky……………………………………………...…. 48
…forget me………………………………………………………….52
Powerty of absence………………………………………………….60

I know that there are definitely people in this world who think they are alone
and lonely, who are woven with unique stories, who we think have a language,
but who need to be understood without language.
Maybe they are just witnessing what we are experiencing.

From the author...
It seems that this is the first time that I have spoken so openly.
I am a 33 year old weary traveler of life,
But don't get tired to rest anymore.
The more wobbly my steps, the older I am.
…wanted to write something to educate myself.
…in fact, I'm selling my memoirs for you.
Still in my life and circle
whose memories I want each in his own way,
There are only so many people I can love.
I became friends with some and for some,
the door where they just want to share their pain,
I became "somebody" to some, and faithful to those who believed,
I became a confidant and a friend to the one who taught and gave secrets.
Perhaps the visible face of the invisible...
I didn't make it very clear even when I was alone.
It was as if I was surrounded
by the relationship of a close friend and companion.
Does happiness come in series?
I have been the subject of the town's rumors for almost two years.
"The heart you cannot enter is not yours."
Look, no matter how much you want to possess from the outside,
even in your thoughts you will not be able to fit yourself in that place.
sometimes take all your cares away because of it...
3

Far away
Every love has its own day!
I realized that waiting for every rising sun in sweaty palms,
to smile every day with a thousand hopes,
solemn pleasant feelings with one,
He has a warm smile to share
is life, as long as you live you see that.
I have a hug full of wishes, wish will be.
admiring someone who taught you to write,
get invited to those classes at once,
and each one of the most valuable memories in each homework
just knowing those letters by eye,
You can be happy that "I wrote".
4

to understand the meaning and also the burden of every care,
while being sung from those quivering lips
to beat with countless rushing steps,
and then that fragile voice is sad
once and for all there is a root in the heart.
to live someone's dream someday
following one's absence as long as one experiences it and
be saddened by the sadness of his existence as long as he lives,
as you look, there is a long, long, non-burning glow.
even, if he loves, so that he can come back when he remembers
asking for an account of all childish mistakes and
and then you have to pay them tirelessly.
far away...
even though it's dry now
your beloved, those blowing golden leaves
there is knowing that it has come down from a branch at some point.
one day maybe even unintentionally
forgetting one's true dream and
to say the name without wanting to,
instead, he stepped on the earth and came as a guest
there is faith in the heart-loving angel,
and then there is loving one's soul.
after all, love is everywhere, in every heart
...written in the same language
Where did you write happiness in which language?!
5

Love Street 2: Leila
Your name sounded so sad and so blessed that
…as if i had read my palms
not falling from these five alphabets and languages,
a heartwarming epic with its mystery and magic.
I memorized it so,
the unique features of his face,
the smell i can never identify and whatever you like…
I memorized...
when I saw it, it was morning.
The sun was just rising.
it was just starting to warm the earth.
the dew of the sparse meadows had not yet dried up.
the city was just waking up.
I was in front of your garden door and silently locked on you.
I wanted to let you know with a sign,
6

But my hesitation was with me that day
I was looking at the eighth wonder of the world.
her hair ended on her shoulders.
which I could not fit into the world at that moment and
maybe broken a few times,
or to the undiscovered, undiscovered heart
I suddenly wanted to take refuge.
I wished that...
Majnun that you read from books endless,
seemingly from other worlds,
their pleas in the dry deserts,
their wishes to be reunited, were nothing.
forgive me...
I don't know,
maybe a word that will be born with vows,
You are like an autumn that
may not end with yellow and red leaves.
on my days when I'm bored.
7

Sometimes I'll drown in its smoke,
but I'll also get hot from its heat
I wanted you as much as January fires.
still lovingly nurtured around
sharp enough to draw a handful of blood
I wanted to love you without fear, despite so many thorns.
I lived like that
sometimes you touch my feelings like school children
I wouldn't be offended even for a day.
I wouldn't even be offended
your complacent and capricious,
sometimes not fair at all
and reprehensible behavior in a foreign language.
Whether you came or didn't want to come,
I would wander if I was tired
in the chaotic and unclear streets of the city.
I was used to just smiling like a wise and miserable person
these days, it seems like I'm heading in this direction,
I am involuntarily worried and fined during the day.
or the asphalt roads leading to
you are deliberately short and upside down.
Even if I don't see the telltale winds,
the address you live in is correct,
but i don't know.
8

I wrote that
I spelled his name with letters that could be read from the sky.
I tirelessly wrote my true feelings along the yellow sand beach.
just for me, to be stubborn,
even in Garayazi, Jeyran Desert,
I was painted in waterless gray lands.
even invisible steps in the green Hunna valley...
perhaps to live you in retrospect
even on the days I don't want it to end, even in my incomplete dreams
I had carved his name deep into the stone-walled fences.
with maddened dreams in shame,
sometimes I cling to my bare hopes,
and sometimes screaming at 91 decibels
I watched you for hours.
look, now with normal voice and abbreviation
to whom I want to tell my wishes and
if I want to exhaust them line by line
no one can write the meaning.
see that no one can speak to me.
9

Like a full-length movie every day in half-real urban dreams
I love to watch that I want to be realized
so that my whole life will gain meaning
there was also love...
a love we can live between ourselves.
a love that wants nothing more than to be fulfilled in time.
like a pattern in a heart that you can touch,
caress and recognize
a love that catches the eye with a thousand colors...
and a love that you will love while loving.
I loved it so much
what i could talk about what i know
nor could I be silent to teach what I do not know.
I wanted to live by living.
to possess you with all my being, and to have you alone with me,
I wanted to share once and for all.
one day i hugged you so
your arms wrapped around my neck like
the morning breeze from the mountains.
your lips were dry and cold,
and there was a slight tremor in his breath.
and in his hands are broken mirrors of years of longing...
10

I shouted to the sky, "Remove my one sin, God."
I don't know if my voice would have reached or
if he would have heard it already.
I seem to have forgotten what I deserve at that moment.
just so close to your love rich with the dawn of peace,
at least I didn't want to get away from the 40-day infection.
I wanted to whisper one day.
If you have time, look at the monument of loyalty.
see that every day it grows bigger.
I also chant "Leiyla" like a century-old prayer
to rise...
11

Love Street 2: First Spring
My first spring.
Come, sacrifice the seas to you,
False reasons washed away in low tides,
near the yellow shores of which I dream
...sacrifice of the seas
These days it is a reflection of the indecisive days of silence.
Didn't you have time to talk?
while i have you
while believing and knowing a little,
Have you ever wanted to count the days to the future?
Hoped with me.
12

to summon dreams that will come true?
So transparently veiled that
of the countdown steps related to this indecision.
Don't mind these separate worlds,
to the misty sailing clouds,
to the longing darkness,
and to those dark days that will never be lived again,
insist on deferred sins,
speak as loud as you can, call me...
Even if I can't read his eyes
when I'm with him now.
say "I love you",
say "I'm coming"...
And then because "his laughter was secretly shared".
at least show me a place where i can kiss.
13

Black water
I was covered in rain after sudden thunders.
Ready, while clinging to life in the shadow of time
All that has happened,
as if blowing it into the sky at once,
mercilessly, won't he delete?!
The only one whose fate is tied to you,
who looks like you and if there
is a tree that dares to grow old and yellow with you,
a tree where you will not be afraid,
where you will lean like a child.
14

Think!
If a crazy storm comes to earth
the winds you fall in love with every sound,
the autumn leaves you hope for in every color
doesn't it turn upside down, doesn't it change places?
Or every word you want to believe, son of man...
Yes, would you believe if it changes color because
the season has changed..?
Does time bring together or forget?
There are so many grains of sand that do not reach their dreams.
Today, in October, surrendering to a drop of rain,
Like a convict, "fat!" shouting
Longing for water Fizan desert.
A memory from every word,
which is the essence of every face
and the burden of caring for captive bodies..
whose face is like gold, but more valuable than gold,
Maybe Fizan, an exile...
An unidentified grave in a trackless land
Or the one who needs the blessing of the ocean?
15

A hope is expected from every wave,
A soul mate who wakes up every morning
with the sun at the meeting place of confessions
... that is, on every sandy, rocky shore
there is a child who sometimes does not wake up one day.
Is the darkness of the night a hope that
does not arise despite the darkness?
Or the sad end of a pageant life?
There are paths surrounded by hard rocks,
One light, one sound, witnessing a thousand shadows
There is only one life.
Do not divide the silence of the cries of the night?
Does he not throw his body on the beach because of his faith?
a pleasant prayer that should be protected
in the palm of one's hand, but does not protect,
and black waters in one palm.
16

Smile
...if you smile
Fill me with your smile.
Love as much as you can.
Don't give a share to someone else, don't be alienated,
what you can teach your loved one
You are the quivering breath of the sparrow's nest.
At least touch me with your eyelashes.
To love in the narrow streets smelling of lilacs is to be ashamed.
As many letters as you learn in the trunks of trees,
smile until signs.
After all, the wound itself is a memory.
Maybe it should be sealed in mysterious boxes and shells
It's a gift to you.
17

...if you smile
Every spring starts with a flower,
then it becomes a rose.
It is as melodious and melancholic as its composition
your shy voice covered by your fragility.
Who wants to disappear in your lips while smiling
you are as delicate as a drop of delicacy,
what kind of clear eyes you have...
the nights are yours as much as the days
as dreamy realities in their horizons.
Live whatever you want to live.
...even a crown of cherry blossoms,
sometimes be a king, sometimes be a sultan,
...then enjoy
sometimes like kids kissing in the sandbox.
come, let's master the harmony of the world.
let it rain on us
but let's not ask the burden of the clouds,
so that he doesn't make a sound...
maybe to love is to smile.
18

...you name it
What is this...?
How many pains,
How many pains to experience for a poem,
How many excuses do you have to make for a date?
Don't dare in this world,
he has no right to hope or to hope for anything,
even if the last one knocks on God's door.
You put on your best clothes, sometimes you just...
Or come as you always are.
If you know how much I wished
to feel your presence by my side,
to live with your only existence.
19

Where are you...?
Open your arms, hug me until I'm tired.
While hugging you madly
as if I will be crucified in the shadow
as your favorite.
...no problem
I don't even know
What values should I value you?
What thick books should I write in?
or in the basement of which temples I hid
that I am the most precious.?
if you don't...
Now your absence is like a broken cloud.
Neither the sun shines nor the rain.
Immortality, in those compassionate,
warm hands and peace is in his eyes.
With your departure,
a sudden chill came to this windy city,
20

But it's not real for me to get cold
first you have to warm up with your breath.
kill me later if you want
I don't know, in stony, rocky dry deserts
tie the branches tightly to the colored sycamores.
Then keep him hungry and without water for years.
...if your heart is satisfied
...if you want, just once
Hand in hand with another if you can,
show me your snow white face
and then, if you can watch, witness my fall.
Behold, then like the withering leaves
there is a pair of innocent staring eyes.
You change the direction of the winds that blow.
One day, one Thursday
what happens, be an angel, appear suddenly.
From Zayam River, bubbling with the magic of our hopes
turn into crazy clouds, become rain,
and brush my face with your wet eyelashes,
caress my sad soul, as if it never happened.
Look what a lonely I have experienced,
21

nor am I sorry to know the land.
But I know that he is wrapped in his absence
I write wishful farewell songs.
If you want, name hope...
Hope is sometimes like believing in the unattainable,
out of faith, one-sided, he grows old with love.
Sometimes he comes to your confused dreams,
from distant roads, nameless ports,
For unknown reasons, the guest comes empty-handed.
...and while walking,
captures a parcel from his dreams
and you wake up begging in blood sweat
If you want, name it hope..
Hope is sometimes like a lonely and young child.
Like a child whose palms have not reached the place of prayer.
They have broken dreams,
half hungry half full
his heart is on fire.
22

Every evening is filled with burning emotions.
Look, an innocent plea is pouring out of those fragile eyes.
Hope sometimes trembles on the lips,
is a forbidden desire in his fingers.
Say, if every letter is longingly sought,
if you can find them all in a single village,
if it's left to me to understand without reading,
...no problem.
At least talk to me.
Now I'm writing to you like you love me
even if I'm not your lover, but you name it
23

Heavy life
every day a soul is named,
but maybe the body doesn't know.
or a daily sacrifice,
the gift of loyalty is in his sparse gray hair.
as you flip through the calendars on the yellowed pages of the past
and you looked that even while studying yourself
what you know is talking about others.
so it's been years since
dust piled up in his tracks.
you don't know!
for the rest of his life,
from every moment belonging to others,
How long have you been involuntarily made redundant?
24

heavy posts...
between cold and damp stone walls
There are so many orphaned feelings.
and on my hands there is a stamped mark of a blind pencil,
even as I write it touches my nerves.
loop-loop with mixed colors
I'm about to throw up all my worries.
as time passed, sometimes I found my soul weightless,
deliberately my body wants to lighten up.
...they think I'm sick
sometimes even as the days go by,
"If you would come as close as you live
it is against the will of the gods to walk away,
"It is against the red laws," they write.
I'm sorry for not answering...
even though my breath is trying to cool down
half-exile burning my heart
are sarcastic views full of hard questions
sorry for my sadness...
"for which a person is willing to die
in fact, everything that can die is his secret,
is the sign of infinity - they say -
"which convinces man of immortality."
25

Actress
we are in the same windy city and
we live under the same stars.
i love rainy evenings
and you are the morning breeze after the rain.
one of us is the blue sea,
and one of us loves that sea of insatiable hail clouds.
the walls of the warm fortress, which occasionally cast a shadow,
we love to smudge the smoky lashes every now and then.
one of us to sing sadly,
and one of us likes to be read till morning without getting tired.
as if you live me and speak me
I am writing about you.
look for me where you silenced us
26

you seem to have a read beauty.
I memorized his name in several tombs
and then back to the pages of the book
I wrote frozen explanations.
... dry rose
you are the first line of my love stories to be written and
You are a lovely and funny main character.
to the love of the roaring seas,
sometimes to the brown color of his eyes
I want to wrap tightly.
between these freezing mad storms
I think I'll survive as long as I'm wrapped in you.
perhaps I will be protected once and for
all from the drizzling cold of my own breath.
You are like my refuge that opens its arms with care.
I really wanted to stroke your hair now.
as if they are lighthouses visible from the shore.
I'm not afraid to be more clear.
You are the woman who colors my green willow garden world,
27

Give me memories of sea waves that I will never forget.
every now and then the tremors of his breath full of excitement
hide it in the top button of his white shirt.
come tell me about moonlit nights.
curtain by curtain, like a fairy tale.
to the warm dawns of the sun in the mornings
I want to wake up in a different way.
what if one day revive us.
hold the calling hands of my heart
and then sing from wet lips,
at night, say my name as loud as you can in syllables
28

To clear tomorrows
There is sadness in his heart since the last day.
The consolations that he will return are endless.
The ways he will go and the windows he will look at are endless.
We had memories together, my hopes are endless.
The clouds must cry for the days I will spend without him,
his heart is broken and there is no name for the loneliness that will remain.
Drops fall on a river,
erases the tranquility of his soul.
steps fall on those streets,
But the invisible owner, the invisible self.
He thinks every night in his room
cold winds knocking on the window
hope is fading...
He has a longing heart
29

A red novel
As a leaf from its branch,
When he leaves his furnace,
he is sure that he will not be able to return.
turns to the ground, surrenders.
It means that the time has come.
There is only one more hope
wants to be witnessed by the winds while walking,
With admiration and for the last time !
With the sometimes sober,
sometimes drunk signature of a brush
In an artist's painting, in a corner
he wants to leave his mark,
30

And also,
so that it lives in tearful eyes and then in dreams.
Falling to that place where dreams are made,
With his name, he wants to be valued in the lap of the earth,
and then darken.
Maybe in the cold and deserted streets
to be likened to rain when mad winds blow,
Or a memory of a loved one,
and wants to sit in a book whose
every page is decorated with moist roses,
If possible, maybe a love poem
he wants to drip sadly.
Sometimes to smell the lovers
like a prayer, a handful wants to rise to the sky.
The only sound of the silent forest is from the leaves.
It is so sad that it makes you feel sad with its magic.
He wants to witness his happiness.
Guess what life is?
You, think of the places that stay with you and give you a gift.
Every page depends on you,
think of the hidden life in you of all realities.
Dream with a single color in your voice.
consider it the source of inexplicable pleasures
maybe it's like living a scarlet novel.
31

Lovegraphy
love is a feeling.
sometimes it suddenly fills your heart,
and sometimes you'll live a lifetime,
and the secret of its taste is only you,
given to you and given to you,
even as it gets more and more colorful every day
is a feeling that makes perfect sense,
32

That feeling is created by the person you love.
Love is living for the ones you love in this life.
even if you can't see your face chasing each other,
even though he is not with you at the beginning of every second,
in fact, it's not getting used to living without it.
rather, knowing when to turn
in the muddy streets where he treads
sometimes it's staying overnight until tomorrow,
is to wait tiredly.
Love is being loved as you deserve.
by any measure of value,
not to love too much or too little
as negative and positive complement each other.
who writes uniquely peaceful stories to his name,
those inexhaustible,
countless and inexplicable emotions,
expressing those sublime feelings,
He is a heaven-sent messenger of prosperity.
33

Love, even if it's a meaningless ban you know
it is equal to the fears born from threats
and the determination to be alone without waiting
as those who defy all the worlds
is actually an indicator of courage.
Love, every time you hold the hands of your loved one
is to shiver in his hot breath.
If you can, you will write your name in the clouds
you stammered in those first meetings
is to be able to fit 32 letters into the combination of
"I love you" at once.
that is, love, life as you know it,
is learning words every day.
when you love someone
for those whose love is bigger than the world
On morning walks with the smell of "chamomile".
and in the instant messenger beats of your heart,
is to understand him even when he is far away.
love is a reason for life.
34

according to some, it is even the source of life
perhaps swearing to eternity every day,
is to walk tirelessly with him.
is to greet your name with a smile.
raining in the evenings of tender melancholy of spring
in fine drops of April rains
look, so that he may be stubborn to the sky
is to get wet to the core.
as if carrying the light of twinkling stars on his proud shoulders,
love is to soak into your body so that it comes alive.
Love, maybe several years of letters,
fall in love after secret meetings,
and to renew his faith and reunite with his beloved for a lifetime.
to give him silence, if only for a moment,
forgetting the words and letters you know,
and then talking about it to your heart's content is love.
between forgotten syllables and spelled lines
when he is with him so that he realizes his worth,
love is to wish for eye to eye.
35

sometimes in dewy ravines, sometimes on steep cliffs
it is a seed that is bound to life and germinates.
but you don't know the smell
and offended by forbidden touches,
every now and then he turns away in shame and resents you,
resents you,
who asks "does he like or not"
or asked is love like yellow flowers.
you are guilty when you pick them,
but they become beautiful in your hands.
sometimes, on the side of the long roads
even in those dry lands it will always be green
Love is like magnolia trees.
for those who want to gather in its shadow
the roaster wants to shade against the Sun.
36

love,
For someone you're attached to knowing their habits,
to her vividly colored dreams,
and sometimes to every day signed with flutters,
it is to belong with your whole being even to the real
and to what they pretend to be real.
is to stay true to the one you love in spite of everything.
in this time period you live in
what you will experience, no matter how pleasant,
not even being able to predict the end is love.
or simply not wanting it.
love is also forgiving your mistakes and sins.
is to forget the things that will be forgotten every day,
sometimes when you say "go",
"maybe you say stay".
is not to leave!
and love has mastered the harmony of the letters you say
is to write to one heart in two languages.
37

Life is like you
my joy begins
from your smiling eyes, you know
how long shall I hide you
in indefinite personal sentences, I can’t
look, there is a two-day way
from one love to another, real one
come in the nearest days
one lived, another to live
38

become heavy rain
secretly blanketing yourself with these winds
become shower, descend on this city
but before touching the soil
visit my heart,
cool with your purity in foggy winter days
inspirit my shrunk vein
with your drops, for my sake
are you looking for a reason to come,
compensation of regret for the first kiss
is not the second kiss?!
one becomes somebody else when he loves
...when he dreams
look, is there anyone else
whispering ‘I love you’
with shy and excited voice
sometimes, beating like church bells
as the heavens hear
with which tracks shall I step in this labyrinth city
which superficial smiles shall I believe
there are so many sleepy people
whose sincerity dressed up with mosaic pictures
which door shall I knock to beg a piece of peace
39

once upon a time, yellow sands were a book for us
we were children newly learning to write
I’ve always likened you to break hours
... between lessons
that never wanted to be over
what is this compensation for?
know that, after you left
24 hours,
that I am thinking with but without you,
every minute of which i am jelous in others,
isn’t enough
no one replaces you
it turns out, the secret of our well-being
is in your wings
maybe, you are life itself
life is like you
as if, you are as close as your name
your footsteps in rare ascents
dewy smile on my window
you are in my every moment
you are like little mint leaves,
pleasant, your freshness is hidden in your taste
it is impossible not to touch you, while loving you
40

you are another heart
witnessing the delights, impossible to explain,
the peerless days, we lived
you are like the second soul inside me
happy,
living with letters of my name
... I hurry to live with you
in my free times
I make myself listen to radio
instead of us
I listen to long life songs
sometimes instrumental,
sometimes audible
with two-day expectance
for five minutes in brief
fill my nights that I never fed up to caress,
take your place in my dreams, drop by drop
at least,
be written to my colorful funfair memories
at weekends, on Sunday mornings
look, it turns out,
it is love that makes all hearts beat,
but for a long time
I believed it to be breath.
41

From silent spring
Absence exists, but you are not.
... I could not understand at the time
…sorry!
How to live with so many questions.
every day is a test and an uphill climb.
a thousand questions are hidden in one answer.
but not silence...
I'm alone among so many expectations
you don't know.
The letters without the address are also outdated.
to give my life to you, to dedicate to you,
I'm freezing cold.
42

be...
let this be my pleasure for you.
the one who goes alone, doesn't go alone...
The past has been exhibited on the walls for several years
Your looks and smiles depend on the frames.
but for no reason,
maybe I can't touch because of reluctance.
Should I ask the cold walls or not?
What reminds me of you, I ask?
when you have me as your companion
Why didn't you keep me...?
be persistent, let the yellow stubble left over from the harvest
to be blown in such harsh and hot winds.
I am without you in these lands anyway.
at night I wait desperately for the dawn.
even my dreams depend on my freedom and
I wake up in a sweat, every midnight...
I didn't forget...
43

on every birthday, June 12.
that you sing and decorate with love,
and on its pages you dry the spring flowers one by one,
and I'm reading the note`s where you smell dewy daffodils.
which took its color from the last hope of the destitute,
You wrote with a crazy pen that doesn't listen to words...
"That is my life. I witness every letter.
you just remember, that's enough for me"
said the first note full of longing,
every line of which is proud...
I read, but the more I read,
the more I feel sick.
44

feel my tears in your eyes, at least.
I am like a trackless desert longing for a torrential rain.
long time all my possessions change places,
deceived by the wind, and I
i can't hold...
conquer the gods for me
hug the people of my name first for the sake of truth.
then look for me, ask someone for me, find me.
give at least two drops of tears.
believe me sometimes
I have difficulty putting the words together.
what pleasant and mysterious days we had,
that we spent together.
good that you wrote...
it's life, as anyone can live it
we sheltered each other in difficult times.
sometimes our fragility would be the same.
warmed the window with our breath in the evenings,
then the two of us would write.
45

we could not get tired of watching and loving for minutes.
After all, the sun is a witness, so "make a wish".
to the mornings when I wake up stroking her hair.
what can I say, it was like a worship-like feeling,
what did we not experience together...
which epic does it fit?
Exactly 4 years have passed...
The streets we walk on have changed
beyond recognition...
but I live in the same place you know
if not to live...
there is me and the city that is me.
today is monday, and it's dark,
but the street lights aren't on yet.
it is raining and the earth has a wonderful
and mysterious smell.
46

as if a sad separation is raining from the sky.
I put two old candles on the table,
and the one you like best
flowers are also in place.
and it's probably a habit of recent years...
a single blue patterned goblet.
If it counts, I drink to the day you belong.
I drink to be close to the invisible far away.
and i think...
against the possibility of not being able to come
you before me
let the wind blow as close as a lip.
maybe you will understand in a drop that will land on your face.
…angels kiss your heart
47

Wingless in the sky
With joy and fond memories, a day later...
every birthday i turn a year older
to 364 days decorated with cares
maybe the colors are mixed
I wore a sentence.
look how I look from there.
I can't fit in my body now.
…wingless in the sky
narrowed down to the body they live in and
with the shame of an early separation
Wandering the ropeways,
sometimes drunk, sometimes confused...
whose hopes fall into the water, and remain moist
I write as one...
48

…wingless in the sky
sometimes i talk to you
to you in the dark velvet scrapbook,..
who sometimes don't recognize me for hours,
I am talking to the me that does not submit to me.
we might,
We are a little late to learn life.
into what sin have we stepped together
How long have we been charged?
which of us longed more
in the midst of crumbling walls?
in dusty old frames?
...the mirrors are cracked
or which of us is more
believing, we told cheap lies,
49

we looked for lies
and then we believed what we were talking about?
written on coffee cups,
o with slippery last letters
whose name was it?
as if my faith in its irreversibility
has already been formulated.
look, it was close to zero yesterday
Today I am alone on the boards of the city and
I am waiting for tomorrow's solution.
there is knowing someone and
forgetting someone without knowing.
maybe it's your absence
these black stones on my captive shoulders.
He always wants to knock my body to the ground.
to look up, speak a line and
even to ask "why".
...doesn't know the possibility.
maybe it's your absence
"Shahmar" in the skin of snakes
wraps around my neck and
blows my blood from my veins.
50

and then, like a poor person, "disappear!" to say
wants to shoot from Hamadan fortress.
I'm looking up at the clouds now.
now pitting me against me
in the midst of terrible thunders,
…wingless in the sky.
51

…forget me
"I leave you!" a parting sentence
it gains meaning not when speaking,
but when living.
Sorry, I couldn't say today.
I don't know, maybe we haven't met,
I'm leaving.
52

How long has my heart been weary.
instead of throbbing with enthusiasm,
he gets tired as he breathes.
The more he looks into the distant past,
the more he flutters madly,
he says either go or miss him.
either the last blow or to a resentful one.
How many years old nest at once
is ready to change to an unknown distance.
Like how many years to go to the Sun
To fit in the palm of your hand while walking begs for
"hold my hands, what will happen!"
the dawn is just breaking
Stay up late for the last time to the dewy window
and a black wooden frame on the side wall
I look sad.
It seems that the sparrows are calling me tomorrow.
I miss going for a lifetime.
Forget me, our love,
forget it once and for all.
53

From now on,
don't send me a word or write a letter.
Do not dream or write a dream for me.
In this life, neither I nor you have spoken.
you know…
that people like you are far from me in these places
it is difficult to love unrequitedly for a lifetime.
There is no hope for me to return, forget me!
Probably the last place I would go
God who wrote the last things in advance,
find me in advance.
and you are the only one
from the heart that I wrote because you love me
tear me away forever.
54

Today..
To that wooden and semi-suspended suspension bridge
the last day it rained.
Clean and clear.
I count my steps,
on indifferent gravelly slopes,
I am already barefoot in the muddy fields.
What do I know, even though I am not at fault in this way
I leave all my memories knowingly.
...forgetting I go.
Forget it too.
Although my voice is dull and my face looks pale,
I started off with my smile,
which you consider magical,
which does not fit in the palm of your hand.
In one hand, a few years old "go-to" bag,
and in one hand I have a worn blue umbrella.
My steps, which are sometimes yawning,
sometimes become thinner.
55

Sometimes through my fragile eyelashes
I'm looking for a way, I'm tracing the paths.
Now among the drizzly and wet leaves
as if I am a million-year-old desert
and I am drenched with the water of my life in this life.
You are a witness of what we have experienced,
and time knows.
The wounds we dug in sweat
we couldn't even cover it.
But now to recover from me
you want a non-marking ointment.
Only for you, me
I go as someone who can't be loved.
Maybe it's a farewell song
and maybe I won't hear your voice when you're crying.
Maybe in those frosty and dark streets
no one will warm your hands by sacrificing their warm breath.
56

I'm leaving, maybe I won't come back.
Don't look for me in those meeting places anymore
Don't ask anyone else about me.
I'm already a stranger in your heart,
"Stay with me!" there is no meaning left now.
I am between fear and joy,
I probably won't see you again.
After me, in the mirrors with my picture in the corners
you talk to yourself forever
The one who gave us our paged life
and even if you didn't read what
I wrote while you were with me
After me, you will live alone with books.
And in the last line of every book
You share my absence with ink.
If our paths cross one day,
or if we accidentally meet in this city years later,
Neither you stop, nor I say go.
When I don't even remember his name,
Sometimes at the invitation of our acquaintances
if we meet as strangers
neither I say "my friend"
nor you say "my beloved".
57

Every separation is a beginning.
You are now on the wrong side.
I am already far from that starting point.
Now there is the smell of the earth that
grows yellow ivy meadow.
On the trunk of damp and wild bushes,
I'm also on the verge of uphill reverse roads.
The horizons of which I want to disappear
and despite the peaceful evenings we were spared
now I'm in search of the warm dawn of the Sun.
Instead of the stars that I now look for with
the light of my eyes
my most memorized songs
I have trouble with the syllables I remember.
Ice-cold and blood-curdling ridged northerly winds
it is already changing my facial features.
I feel bad, maybe in the name of humanity,
as if in the morning by the side of crooked roads,
as if I am begging under the wish trees.
I probably don't even know myself today.
How many years did my one step take?
I am seventy years old in half a day.
58

a few clouds have closed my eyes.
Even if it rains, it will rain in a foreign land.
I just have a handful of prescriptive fragility.
Every shade has its lonely share.
Is this how many years of depression?
If I can't cry, it means I'm dead.
But when was the last time I cried?
I'm far away now
Now I am in far with all my heart.
Maybe even if you call my name over and over again
out of hearing through one door and two windows
I'm far away
Now I have a fear that it will come true.
Someday my fingers writing to you will sell me,
I am afraid that the train
will take me to the eyes of your dreams and hopes
he will remember and write to you sometime.
59

Poverty of absence
My world in whose justice I seek refuge,
I believe in every step,
child of the sun,
with disheveled hair.
When you are everywhere,
you are far away.
You are a witness to time
You are the one who exists.
I am in need now
and perhaps more in need of your
compassion than ever.
60

After these things, as a covenant,
if I'm not in your memory
believe that I have no intention of building a throne.
I'm just undecided,
my voice is alien to its true note.
My fingers that remember the letters
also change color from shame, and
My palms are already wet.
all the streets are as foreign as the cities left between us,
sometimes one day is not enough to walk around one corner.
What am I different from the endless bunch of willows?
I'm alone even if I stand the drought
and is my shadow useful to anyone?
I'm like a child learning to walk again.
encourage me as much as you can
hope again.
It's as if my memory of you has been drained
from my jugular vein.
I try to recognize again what I saw,
If I'm lucky, I'll rewrite what they showed...
61

62

Lovegraphy: Please, write your impressions about the book here and send it to
bysigners@gmail.com. I wait to meet you.
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