Üzeyir Lokman CAYCI : ÖĞRETMENİM - MY TEACHER

MY TEACHER Superannuated children At the tether of insensitivity, These are your work Born of selfishness, Each generation slips away Further and further. From every sideways glance Aimed at revolt Fleas give birth to dragons And they do it from the underside Of workbenches only partially covered with tablecloths. The month of September in their eyes Piles their up their hatreds day in and day out, An anteroom for opportunists A shelter annihilating love And A prop For confidence, Whose opposite face falls into a ravine. My teacher, Before the wellspring of your values dries up... Draw near, and you'll see the capillary vessles Of youth. Draw near, Before the last vestiges of your sensibilities Are snuffed out, scattered by the winds of Time. Oh, I know, No matter what you plea, Your inner Tribunal doesn't leave you free So long as tomorrow drops suffering into your lap. Events fall out on your right, Secrets shake you up on your left The source of worrying Is in every tomorrow Looming inside you... Your accomplishments, my dear teacher, Only see you They can't see themselves!... Üzeyir Lokman CAYCI Paris, 30.04.