The End Of Friendly Days
By Tugrul Tanyol
My gypsy soul, rein now on your horse
There is no way beyond this.
In the evening, a bird with wings on the wind
Slowly in the crash, now
is the moment when Journeys fall into the water.
Bend over and look at my face Look at the
old atlases drawn in my eyes Those
old roads where the stars were cast,
Now there are the rivers where
heavy and long caravans
What nomadic drunkenness There are
hot summer nights.
It is the roof of the night, when it opens,
the female beauty of the Universe, We have come to the end of those free, proud and friendly days where we
slept under a thousand and one skies, made
love and multiplied .
What longing is this, it will end us The
candles melted in the rooms with the door ajar, What
time is it, where are we, who is this wall surrounded by this wire,
whose work is this dark street,
This white shroud, this suddenly
dying and wasting time.
If I shoot an arrow and drop the night
Bright days that will kneel before me With
freshly washed wounds on our bare breasts
And on the highest branch of the tree As
my heart opens loudly .
Gypsy soul, rein your horse now
we’ve come to the end of the road