I Love My Poets Şiiri - Kasım Kobakçı

I love my poets,
All of them are lowering the hands of the sun, curtain by curtain,
They all have words like candy,
All my loved ones,
So do they like me too?

I love my poets,
Sometimes I paint the colors of sadness on my drawings,
Sometimes I paint with the scaly colors of the gypsy with joy,
Do you know how good they smell, poet?
You know they're like parents sometimes,
Sometimes innocent like dying baby birds...

I love my poets,
Like they're getting engaged to each other,
Some dreamers are more beautiful,
Some look like galata tower,
Some of them are Nemrut,
Some in the Sinkhole,
Some put a handle to the ax,
Some of them are garbage from the ground,
Some are salty gone,
Some are left in the footsteps of the masters,
Some are fish, some are tundra,
Some are seasonal...

They are my poets,
Some are devoid of burning voice poetry,
A flamenco guitar, some from the heart,
Some are the lowest of feelings,
Flat of sharp,
The Do of Portraits,
Some thin do...

Some are love, some are pain,
Some of them smell bad, you don't know,
But all of them were mine, the most real,
All of them are parcels,
Orange, pink, green, yellow, red, purple,
But it was mostly blue...

LOVE BLUE...

And it's not clear?

I love my poets...