Mektup 124: Lıfe, As It Is

-Bahadır Kara-

The leaf was weary, tired of the tree,
Autumn was just an excuse to be free.
Life came crashing, heavy, unkind,
Twisting the soul, tormenting the mind.

A person feels low, the weight won’t cease,
Some trade six months, some trade their peace.
They said “the army is noble, a noble feat,”
We came and found only poison to eat.

At times you wish to sink underground,
At times from silly talk, to the sky you’d bound.
Endless troubles, they never end,
These cursed problems that never bend.

The mind keeps spinning, it won’t be still,
Even the strongest can lose their will.
Metal turns into something unreal,
Some pray, some curse, some only kneel.

Each soul tastes feelings, bitter or sweet,
Some rise to heaven, some taste defeat.
What is this “life”? A question, unclear,
Perhaps just two feelings that draw us near.

Perhaps these lines hold no design,
Who knows the meaning? Yours or mine?
There’s much to speak, yet silence pleads,
Sometimes the word is the weed that breeds.

What is it, then, to be “a man”?
Who are we, tell me, if you can?
When did our worth begin to rise?
In war’s dark smoke? In evil lies?

Tell me, truly, who really cares?
Life itself answers: no one dares.
It breaks you down, upon your knees,
Time divides—some fail, some seize.

This is life, both curse and cure,
Nothing less, and nothing more.