Monseiour Time Poem by Murat Halici

Monsiour Time

I know you Monsiour Time
You are the head of fourty thieves
The rasp which rasps the persons
Who were gotten the air
Rush of death in some pupils
Love, death and faith
Other heads of chiefs of fourty thieves

I know you Monsiour Time
You are faithful buckler of God
You work for God every moment
Even you drop the guillotine sometimes
Sometimes a kindly mother hand
Your whispers are
İf you are innocent provincial treasures
Why do you get out of under of all stones?

I know you Monsiour Time
You are what a novice painter!
When you always delete the places you painted
How should I find my place on the painting?
Besides I dont know that
am I a paint or am I a toile
My wish is that like everyone's
You to start over