To the table gathered the poets...
A awkward dervish...
On the right side of, the sun is gliding.
To his left is green lawns growing.
"That youth must have gone crazy! " says.
They disrupt our beautiful silence...
They do not appreciate the value of what they have...
They fall out like a leaf...
My dear they disgrace technology.
They call it youth, they say.
lf you ask them, there are three or five passengers among them, or none of them." said, and theawkward dervish walked away; Towards green trees.
by Meral Meri / Under the Shadow of the Willow Tree / The Renaissance
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem