Babamın Cüzdanı Şiiri - Sıcak Rüzgar

Babamın Cüzdanı

Babam garip bir işçiydi, elleri nasır,
Alın teriyle yoğrulmuş bir ömürü taşır.
Güneş doğmadan çıkar, gece dönse de,
O cüzdan bereketle dolardı her seferinde.

Severdi köfteyi, domatesi, karpuzu,
Bir de soğanlı yumurta, soframızın tuzu.
Yemeği severdi ama kısmazdı asla,
Önce evlat doysun derdi, canıyla, başla.

Sevgisini saklardı, pek söylemezdi,
Kalbinde yangını, gözünde gizlerdi.
Biz bilirdik ama akrabalar bilmezdi,
Ona “uzak” derlerdi, gönlünü sezemezlerdi.

Annesine, babasına hürmet ederdi,
Kardeşlerine saygıda kusur vermezdi.
Anlaşılamadı çoğu zaman belki,
Rabbine döndü sessizce, Ama şikâyet etmedi.

Kalabalık sofralarda gürültü taşardı,
Ama onun yalnızlığı derinde yaşardı.
Hiç dile getirmedi kırgınlıklarını,
Allah’a açtı hep içinin sırlarını.

Çarşıya giderdik yan yana yollar,
Bakkal, kasap, market… akıp geçer yıllar.
Her yerde o cüzdan çıkar elinden,
Bereket yayılırdı onun gönlünden.

O cüzdan yalnız bizim değil, herkese idi,
Amcaya, akrabaya, komşuya da verirdi.
Cömertlikti onda, aç kalmazdı bir hane,
İkramı severdi, Rabbine güvenle.

Şimdi o cüzdan elimde bir hatıra,
İçinde paralar ama boş dünyada.
Babam yoksa ne kıymeti var ki,
O cüzdanı bereketli kılan babamdı, sanki.

Kokladım cüzdanı, elleri gelir aklıma,
Bir yanım yanar, bir yanım bakar yarına.
Ah baba, hasretin kor gibi yakmakta,
Sensiz geçen günler ağır yük sırtımda.

Selam olsun helal alın teriyle yoğrulan babalara,
Sevgisini saklayan ama gönülden seven kullara.
Yazıklar olsun vefasız, değer bilmeyenlere,
Babasını unutan, dua etmeyenlere.

Babamın cüzdanı, bana kalan miras,
İçinde değil para, sevgisi esas.
Dualarımda yaşatırım hep seni,
Rabbim cennette kavuşmayı nasip etsin, babam, bizi…

My Father's Wallet

My father was a strange worker, his hands were calloused,
He carries a life molded by sweat and blood.
He goes out before the sun rises, even if he returns at nightther's Wallet

My father was a strange worker, his hands were calloused,
He carries a life molded by sweat and blood.
He goes outFather's Wallet

My father was a strange worker, his hands were calloused,
He carries a life molded by sweat and blood.
He goes out before the sun rises, even if he returns at night,
That wallet would alwayther's Wallet

My father was a strange worker, his hands were calloused,
He carries a life molded by sweat and blood.
He goes out befoMy Father's Wallet

My father was a strange worker, his hands were calloused,
He carries a life molded by sweat and blood.
He goes out before the sun rises, even if he returns at night,
That wallet would always be filled with abundance.

He loved meatballs, tomatoes, watermelon,
And egg with onion, the salt of our table.
He loved food, but he never spared it,
First he would say that the child should be fed, with his life and head.

He kept his love hidden, he didn't say much,
He hid the fire in his heart, the secret in his eyes.
We knew, but the relatives didn't know,
They called him "distant", they couldn't understand his heart.

He respected his mother and father,
He did not lack respect for his brothers.
It was often not understood, perhaps,
He turned to his Lord silently, but he did not complain.

Noise would overflow at crowded tables,
But his loneliness lived deep was often not understood, perhaps,
He turned to his Lord silently, but he did not complain.

Noise would overflow at crowded tables,
But It was often not understood, perhaps,
He turned to his Lord silently, but he did not complain.

Noise would overflow at crowded tables,
But hiss often not understood, perhaps,
He turned to his Lord silently, but he did not complain.

Noise would overflow at crowded tables,
But his loneliness lived deep inside him.
He never expressed his resenften not understood, perhaps,
He turned to his Lord silently, but he did not complain.

Noise would overflow at crowded tables,
But his loneliness lived deep inside him.
He never expressed his resentments,
He has always revealed his inner secrets to Allah.

We used to go to the bazaar, the roads side by side,
Grocery store, butcher, grocery store... the years pass by.
That wallet comes out of your hand everywhere,
Blessings would spread from his heart.

That wallet was not only for us, it was for everyone,
He would give it to his uncle, his relative, his neighbor.
He was generous, a household would not go hungry,
He loved to give, with confidence in his Lord.

Now that wallet is a souvenir in my hand,
There is money in it, but in the empty world.
What is it worth if there is no father,
It was my father who made that wallet fertile, as if.

I smell the wallet, I think of the handsThere is money in it, but in the empty world.
What is it worth if there is no father,
It was my father who made that wallet fertile, as if.

I smell the e is money in it, but in the empty world.
What is it worth if there is no father,
It was my father who made that wallet fertile, as if.

I smell the wallet, I think of the hands,
Part of me burns, part of mee is money in it, but in the empty world.
What is it worth if there is no father,
It was my father who made that wallet fertile, as if.

I smell the wallet, I think of the hands,
Part of me burns, part of me looks at tomorrow.
Oh father, your longing is burning like an ember,
The days without you have been a heavy burden on my back.

Hail to the fathers who kneaded halal forehead sweat,
To servants who hide their love, but love wholeheartedly.
Shame on the unfaithful, those who do not know the value,
Those who forget their father, do not pray.

My father's wallet, my inheritance,
It's not about money, it's about love.
I always keep you alive in my prayers,
May God grant us to be reunited in heaven, my father, we...

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Kayıt Tarihi : 10.9.2025 11:19:00