FATHER ...
FATHER ...
HASAN BARAN
Whenever I come to Karaman to see you,
If I wander the streets of my childhood
Now if I say where my father is,
You would appear before me.
Like a lightning bolt
You would show your light everywhere.
Whenever I come to Karaman to find you,
If I go to the Castle and look at Montenegro, the plain,
Now if I say where my father is, he will fly me
You used to show the Kaaba, the Great Wall of China.
My father whose voice is waving in waves
Books, roses, harmonica in his hands…
A song from the past
That you stole
With the sound of that harmonica
It's like what Noah Nebi did
The ship's door would open
With a warm smile on his face
You wandered in a flood.
My eyes are always on the harmonica in his hand
I never thought of taking it and playing it once in my hand
Entering the door of Noah Nebi's ark with the sound of that harmonica and overcoming the deluge.
I sat down to write about you and Karaman.
My heart is plastered with pain
And to cover my heart's holes
I'm writing on the news.
Your nightingale voice, thunder, rain chill, wind voice
Sound like
He's coming from afar.
I'm running to call you in the Streets of Karaman.
There was a Photographer,
Opposite Ziraat Bank, in the corner.
He took my photo
When I was a kid on your lap.
How will I be happy if I find my photo.
Looking at that photo, you and my childhood
How am I going to laugh.
You gave me a red apple from our garden.
He hugged me while he was looking at me and crying.
Then you saw that it's me
of Sorrows
Pain
I'll hammer nails into my heart
And my heart will be full of pain
And to close those holes of mine
I will write you and Karaman day and night.
You are in front of the great plane tree of the Aktekke Mosque.
You tell me don't be sad, don't worry,
As you write, you won't even feel the pain…
There's so much left to me
from you
Invisible hands holding my hand.
Tears as soon as they appear in my tears.
And you on the one hand
You play the harmonica
You are smiling.
You are in front of the great plane tree of the Aktekke Mosque.
I'm crying so it won't be noticed
You draw a green cover in front of me.
A cover from Kubbe-i Hadra
in Medina-i Münevvere
It looks like the Green dome on the grave of the Prophet.
The mausoleum of our great grandfather Mevlana looks like the green dome of the Kulliye.
It looks like a green light burning at night.
“People take as much e�% as the teeth of a comb.
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