Lament

In this earth your name remains,
in between the seeds,
in the green of the fields
and in the yellow wheat.

 

Even as the years go by,

it rushes in the streams,

shimmers in the bullet-wounds

of your true friends.

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Its day will come to climb a hill,

to pull poems from the stars,

to wash away our blood

in the clearest waters.

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Your name is like a mother,

like a brother to us, 

like a fire on the plains, 

which now brings life, now death.

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Tomorrow it will be our flag.

We will raise your name high

and fly it on the spring wind,

and in the dark eyes of young women.

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Ağıt by Ülkü Tamer

Translated June 2, 2020

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