Belart Muroc

Sorrows clash
in white roses;
in nocturnal obscurity
water flows noisily,
...

Grief will invade your dreams.
Listen to the ocean
for all that you would see.
Remember blue fields
...

Had this tree but one lonely branch
That leaning over just reached out
For the thoughts of those who love….
We surely would have come to love to taste its fruit
...

A feeling of nearness to suffering
In our hearts
While we reduce the dimensions
Of the essence of light
...

Friend, you’re not the guilty one
The guilty ones are the evenings
See how they drag you down into this obscurity...
Trouble not yourself
...

His mother:
'You are my flower' she said.
It is from Yozgat
that he came to France.
...

One does not sell
broken pottery,
look for profitable business.
A hump on her back
...

You live in your own inner city, which you bought in a
silent auction.
You were again unable to cancel your debts.
Under your blackening eyelids you try to feel certain
...

Obstacles before you
detours behind
in the name of nothing at all.
Coming and going for 20 years
...

There was a time
we searched for love and beauty.
We no longer have that passion.
We no longer think
...

As dusk fell one evening
I felt your existence
For the very first time
These pages full of poems
...

Iskender was a model
For telling time
And people…
You know, like gray night clouds
...

Once upon a time
I was seated under an oak
Doing a little homework.
Down came the sun through its branches
...

When primitive aspirations
lock in a struggle of interests
barely a trace of friendship remains
my brother.
...

Full upside down
Time makes tears flow.
To your expectations!
Who leaves
...

Watching the end
Painful memories knot themselves
Behind your eyes
Hopes are suspended one by one
...

They are sinking
In the multiplication tables
While growing older
In a lack of emotional resources...
...

Your expectations are carved into my eyes...
Their shapes melt in my dreams
The face seen in your postcards
Is not that of your soul Istanbul...
...