Poem by Tarana Turan RAHİMLİ
The poem I didn’t write to you
For my mother
The poem I didn’t write to you
Internally will bring me down,
Preobrazuvaǰḱi are in spirit,
My death will come out of me.
With Cargo in the chest I will go,
Without knowing this rock, this soil.
That hug with love, no
To have it in winter, not in the summer.
In front of my eyes in the country will sink
The expression from the face of friends,
Spirit my bezumorno and after me,
He’ll look for the best word for you.
The verses I didn’t write to you,
Overheard will enter the grave.
Don’t cry or you,
For the poet who died before he was born.
