ŞİİRLER >>THE TAVERN >> >>I don't love her anymore >>So >>Why should I walk >>Nights >>By the tavern >>Where I drank >>Every night >>Thinking of her? >> >> (translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat) >> >> >> >> >>------------------------------------------------------------------------ >> >> >>SPREAD OUT >> >>She's spread out; >>Her skirt pulled up slightly; >>She's lifted her arm, one can see her armpits; >>And with one hand she's holding her breast; >>I know, she thinks nothing >>Evil by it, >>I know; >>Neither do I; >>But how can a person, >>A person lie like this? >> >> (translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat) >> >> >> >> >>------------------------------------------------------------------------ >> >> >>SUNDAY EVENINGS >> >>I don't look like much today; >>When I pay my debts, >>Possibly I'll own a bunch of new suits; >>Possibly you still won't love me. >> >>But, on Sunday evenings, >>When I go by your neighborhood, >>Dressed to kill, >>Do you think I'll cherish you >>As much as I do today? >> >> (translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat) >> >> >> >> >>------------------------------------------------------------------------ >> >> >>PRO PATRIA >> >>What have we not done >>For our mother- >>Land; >>Some of us died; >>Some gave speeches. THE BLUE-EYED GIANT, THE MINIATURE >>WOMAN AND THE HONEYSUCKLE >> >>He was a blue-eyed giant, >>He loved a miniature woman. >>The woman's dream was of a miniature house >> with a garden where honeysuckle grows >> in a riot of colours >> that sort of house. >> >>The giant loved like a giant, >>and his hands were used to such big things >> that the giant could not >>make the building, >> could not knock on the door >>of the garden where the honeysuckle grows >> in a riot of colours >> at that house. >> >>He was a blue-eyed giant, >>He loved a miniature woman, >>a mini miniature woman. >>The woman was hungry for comfort >> and tired of the giant's long strides. >>And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf >>with a garden where the honeysuckle grows >> in a riot of colours >> that sort of house. >> >>Now the blue-eyed giant realizes, >>a giant isn't even a graveyard for love: >>in the garden where the honeysuckle grows >> in a riot of colours >> that sort of house... >> >> (translated by Richard McKane) >> ----------------------------------------------------------------------- BİTTİ(HEPSİ) BİLDİGİNİZ ŞİİRLER VARSA BİZE YAZARSANIZ SEVİNİRİZ!! E-Mail:matrak_15@yahoo.com