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ingilizce olarak atatürk şiir leri A Lament for Atatürk / (Cahit KÜLEBİ) A land stretches from Edirne to Ardahan , Doves fly over it on

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    A Lament for Atatürk / (Cahit KÜLEBİ)

    A land stretches from Edirne to Ardahan,
    Doves fly over it on wings of grey,
    From Ardahan to Edirne,
    From Edirne as far as Ardahan.

    There is a flowing fountain on the mythical Mount Kaf,
    Whose waters are the depth of a sparrow’s toe
    And take no pleasure in sleep,
    But flow and flow.

    The houses of Samsun look out to the sea,
    There is seaweed in the streets:
    They range up and down like Black Sea boats, lighters
    And fishing vessels on the surface of the water.

    I had a beloved from Kazova
    Who could lead a man to sin.

    The trains that cross the Savaştepe Bridge
    Flood into Izmir.
    The sea of Izmir is a maid, its maid the sea,
    And its streets smell of maids and the sea.

    This land is our country,
    The loving heart rises to its greatness
    And flies like a dove,
    From Ardahan to Edirne,
    From Edirne to Ardahan.

    A horse-carriage full of petrol
    Came to Amasya on a rainy day.
    The next day, the gendarmes attached a gun to it
    In front of the government.

    General Kemal came,
    Like fire in the heart of our nation.
    He scattered the armies of our enemy before him
    Like old socks.
    What faith that is, Great General!
    You went on your way to new battles
    Before your horse’s sweat had even dried.

    To the sound of flutes and drums
    I remember you!
    On train journeys,
    I remember you!

    I was just two years old
    When the enemy entered Izmir.

    I was going to come too,
    But my mother would not let me.
    ‘You are too young, my son,’ she said.
    I told her to let me go.
    She told me that was the path I would follow.

    Now I am older, and I have come.
    ‘Go, if that is what you want,’ she said.

    Cahit KÜLEBİ

    Atatürk / (Faruk Nafız ÇAMLIBEL)

    If they ask who it is
    Who stretches his arms over us night and day,
    Who shows us the loveliest of days,
    Who breathes new life into the Turkish nation,
    It is Ataturk.

    Whatever meets the eye,
    The dawns that illuminate our country,
    The weapons that terrify our enemies,
    The shipyards, factories and merchants’ counters,
    It is Ataturk.

    Wherever one looks,
    He appears divine in all places,
    On the land, in the sea, in the sky,
    The heart worships and is transported with joy,
    It is Ataturk.

    Turkish women teach their sons his name
    Before those of their own fathers.
    He taught us to take pleasure in living.
    We are happy if he is happy.
    It is Ataturk.

    Faruk Nafız ÇAMLIBEL

    Atatürk / (Hasan Ali YÜCEL)

    It is he
    Who saved the Turk from death,
    It is he
    Who gave the Turk back his identity.

    The army he built
    Threw back the enemy,
    It is he
    Who created the nation and the land.

    His aim
    Is the Turk’s desire,
    His great heart
    A homeland for the Turk.

    With his soul
    He gave us this country and
    The republic
    As a gift to us.

    You are our father,
    We take our name from you.
    He who believes in you
    Follows in your footsteps.

    Let my country march on,
    Let Turkishness grow.
    You are Ataturk
    Oh! Great Leader!

    Hasan Ali YÜCEL

    Atatürk /(İlhan DEMİRASLAN)

    In the beginning I spoke the name of Ataturk
    And did up my buttons.

    How shall I say he is dead?
    My Ataturk is before me,
    He lies asleep in the snow,
    His fur cap on his head.

    How shall I say he is dead?
    My Ataturk walks to Kocatepe,
    Lost in though, musing,
    His hand on his chin.

    How shall I say he is dead?
    My Ataturk is teaching At the blackboard,
    White chalk in his hand.
    How shall I say he is dead?

    He has set out,
    He is walking among the crowds,
    His new hat on his head.

    How shall I say he is dead?How?
    A ray of light has struck his face,
    My Ataturk is looking on.
    Let us make ourselves presentable.


    For Atatürk / (Osman ATİLLA)

    You took us by the hand and we set out,
    We liberated the nation, the motherland, my Ataturk.
    We spread blind fortune, as they say, over the land,
    Glory is the blessing of war, my Ataturk.

    The mountains were like horses beneath us.
    You cried, ‘Awake, Oh, Turk!’ My eyes were opened,
    My face was washed in the waters of the Sakarya.
    The value of the Turk was known, my Ataturk.

    I hear the waves beating on the shore,
    You would still have won our hearts
    Had you been merely a general,
    But you are the crown of this nation, my Ataturk.

    Has there ever been your equal in bravery?
    We did well to call you ‘Father,
    Your love is in our hearts, our fingers on the trigger.
    You were the protection of God for us, my Ataturk.

    Every Turk burns with the name of his ‘Father,
    Hears your command and resolves all other concerns.
    This one consolation is enough for him,
    The aim of being worthy of you, my Ataturk.

    Osman ATİLLA

    Great Desire / (Arif Hikmet PAR)

    Blue lights descended from the hills on an August night,
    The sky opened like a dark blue fan.
    Ataturk emerged from the tent, his generals behind him,
    Hitting his leather crop against his knee
    He raised his head high:
    Stars that seemed to have given their hearts to the flag …
    ‘Are the men ready, İsmet?’
    ‘Everything, my general.’
    He knew our souls like a mirror,
    Tomorrow’s dawns appeared in his eyes.
    He looked in the darkness, and bayonets gleamed …
    ‘Hello, soldier,’ he said,
    The ranks passed before him:
    The men shouted, ‘Long live!’
    He gave that golden hair to the night,
    He had now forgotten everything,
    Only wanted with a fierce passion
    To glide to the ridges of Afyon
    Like magnificent eagles.
    He wanted to flow to the Mediterranean
    Like a river of fire.

    Arif Hikmet PAR
    From The Eagle-Eyed Genius

    He Is Coming / (Celal Sahir EROZAN)

    It is 1919,
    May the nineteenth.
    He raises his head from the reddening horizon,
    He who gives soul to the land
    And passion to the soul. The flame faced divine sun!
    The prow of his boat tears the Black Sea:
    You too must awake,
    Awake, O people of Samsun!
    The flame faced divine sun
    Will dry the tears of despair in all eyes!
    The smiling, rising sun over Çaltı cape.

    It is 1919,
    May the nineteenth.
    Awake, O people of Samsun!
    Sleep is death.
    Hoist your souls,
    There is a ship on the horizon!

    But why does it approach so slowly?
    Is it moving slowly? Has it a heavy load?
    This ship is loaded with hope, belief and passion:
    In it is the suffering bosom of the nation,
    He who thinks of its tomorrows is coming.
    A leader like the stars in the sky! That is why the ship is approaching slowly.

    It is 1919,
    May the nineteenth,
    The ship on the horizon is drawing closer.
    It is as if a wild flame
    Is scorching our souls.
    All hearts are suffering from waiting.
    Is it possible not to be saddened?
    This ship is loaded with hope, belief and passion.

    As that hope spread souls are warmed,
    As the passion spreads the veins are filled with blood,
    Every heart that secretly suffers will come alive,
    Like a stirring volcano spitting forth fire!

    Our eyes were darkened from standing
    Under your ever-growing shadow.
    Run, speed, o ship. Do not let
    The sea hold you back!

    Plough through the white waves and come!
    Fly like the birds, blow like the wind, and come!

    Celal Sahir EROZAN

    He Is Going / (Yaşar Nabi NAYIR)

    He is going, history will never see his like again:
    He is going, but seventeen million people are following!

    He is going, the mind cannot hold his infinite might:
    He is going, the flag wrapped around his chest.

    He is going, tears have formed in his footprints:
    He is going, heads and swords are lowered on the ground.
    It is going, the mane of that terrifying lion of war:
    It is going, the torch of peace that flames on the horizon.
    He leads, as if about to open a new age:
    He is in the sobbing voices, in the silently flowing tears.

    The glory of his soul transcends the mortal flesh,
    Paints the grandeur of a setting sun on the horizon.

    He is growing, as he descends from the sky to the land:
    He is growing, as he departs from our eyes.

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