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Dosta düsmana karsi [English translation]
Dosta düsmana karsi [English translation]
turnover time:2024-04-29 07:17:00
Dosta düsmana karsi [English translation]

Blend me, overflowing from dungeons

Ask for me at the likes of Mamak and Metris

I sealed Diyarbekir with blood

Enfold me as corpses, as shrouds

This song is entrusted by the purple mountains

It is a handful of water for the escapees,

A slice of a song for the inmate,

A scarf with lace for the dowry chest,

Milk for the breast,

And the blessing of the spring to the earth.

It doesn't fit into the mourning of the four walls, the barbed wires.

It is a brave bullet in the barrel of a rifle.

Before it, famine and pestilence, the winter

Behind it, the ashes from fires, the cranberries and the violets

A chord of it plays the Assyrians, another one the Chaldeans

And each season, it turns

Petroleum blue and

Blood red into a greenish hue.

It tastes like the saltiness of dried lips.

It plays the Euphrates and the Tigris.

Hey

It is the reflection of life

within the beak of a hawk.

My love with black hair,

with skin like a rose,

this song is entrusted by the purple mountains.

When the sun light hits the snowburnt face

The celestial heart stirs.

Its cap is sorrowful, its shirt is bloody

Its love is an abyss.

Its eyes are an ember, its eyes are a dagger,

its eyes are courage.

Its labour is a chrysanthemum,

its hands are brave and skillful.

Beyond the purple mountains, there are

three huge sagas, three huge worlds,

three equations,

three codes, three atomic nuclei

And a lighter, a sparke and a dynamite.

When the sun light hits the snowburnt face,

the song of the purple mountains arrives.

They were fire in the breast of the sun,

a fresh flower on earth.

They were shells of honor in the barrel,

a heart in revolt,

the pure white truth in the black dream.

My delicate, it is the love of

thousands of years,

the foam of grudge

on the shores of patience.

It is the craving

in the red apple,

in the wheatears,

in the rosy lips.

Don't hang about, my delicate sister

Sing your song

Wtihout crying

Without lamenting

In the joy of henna nights

In Lurke, in Goven

In Temirağa.

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Ahmet Kaya
  • country:Turkey
  • Languages:Turkish, Turkish (Anatolian dialects), Kurdish (Kurmanji)
  • Official site:http://www.ahmetkaya.com/
  • Wiki:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahmet_Kaya
Ahmet Kaya
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