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Martial Dances

We live in strange times, my brother
men make money
with war dances
and occupation...
Do you not see the bombardments
and the pillaging?
Under the boot
you are worn out,
these days
the sweat of your brow
no longer serves you!
Tanks come from distant lands
passing down your streets
demanding to know
why you were born!
And you can say nothing.
Soon, if this continues,
it will be the course of progress
to be denied learning.
One speaks of the rights of man
here and there.
Do not believe those rumors!
You see that nothing is in place now!
We live in strange times my brother,
arms dealing,
governing the land.
Is it so difficult to understand?
They sell the merchandise of war!
Come listen to my counsel.
Don't marry, it is unsupportable
to suffer the massacre of your children.
The success of your affairs depends
on producing fictitious enemies
to menace . . .
In this manner
they take over small countries
one after the other
under the pretext of saving them.
While you fight amongst yourselves
others consume your underground resources.
What should I tell you;
do these times plant sorrow
in your hearts?
Be a little understanding!
Increase the number of fratricidal wars,
divide your people further
to make the lives of the invaders easier.
Do not forget that to destroy love
requires only this:
Live in a society without love
and don't educate anyone . . .
Live in the clarity of obscurity,
depend only on yourself!
The sun rises and sets on time . . .
the throats of cocks are cut
that sing before the hour!
We live in strange times my brother,
men make money with war dances
and occupation . . .
Do you not see the bombardments
and the pillaging?

Copyright Uzeyir Lokman Cayci 2003

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Uzeyir Lokman Çayci's poem is translated from Turkish into French by Yakup Yurt. French free verse is translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick (2003).