Belart Muroc


Humanity - Poem by Belart Muroc

When primitive aspirations
lock in a struggle of interests
barely a trace of friendship remains
my brother.
All base actions
are equal to the intentions of the individual.
Harmful efforts
lie behind the good.
He who manages the affairs of the ego
can hardly find a friend
my brother.
All is hidden then.
It is not the machinery
that is out of order,
but to be human.
It is the day of the race
that runs behind friendship.
Maliciousness does not forget itself
my brother.
Certain creatures do not return
to the wall of lamentations to cry.
The passions
pull a man behind them,
they are not tied-up cows!
He who has a blind man for a guide
cannot arrive at his destination
my friend.

by Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick - 2002


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Read poems about / on: brother, friend, passion, running



Poem Submitted: Saturday, June 7, 2003



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