ATA YİĞİZ

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ATA YİĞİZ

 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY :

 

He wasborn on 1976 in Hasankeyf/Batman .

He finished his highschool in Batman.

He graduatedfromtheAccauntingFacultyof  BatmanÜniversity

He alsofinishedtheFaculty of Management of Anadolu Üniversity

His firstpoetrybook ‘’SOLUĞUN MESAFESİ’’ waspublished in 2017

His secondpoetrybook ‘’ DİLİMDEKİ KUŞLAR’’ waspublished in 2018

One of thepoems in thebook ‘’ANNEMİN YÜZÜ’’ wonthe Şair Raşit Kara  Award in 2018

His poemshavebeenpublished in several literatüre magazines.

He lives in İstanbul

THE BİRTH OF SOUND

 

Silend dreams on the mountain slope

I pulled on my mother’s skirt

A voice rises from my brother

Like a folk song coming back from captivity

 

The rainbow takes place on my forhead

To the touching mornings

A flowe blossomed on

The dead poet’s grave

 

I pushed away the sorrows

From my door

Like the deaths we can get used to

I bid farewell to the sorrows on my forehead

 

My eyes closed a prehistorıc period

Sounds were born in the grievous mountains

Of my hearth

 

———————————————————————————————————

 

HEY! THE OTHER

 

He woke from the amulet on my mother’s chest

To time, to days, to hours

 

A bird took flight to

Fall branches

 

His sorrowful hearth bleeds to the night

His fears are exiles

The atlas of loneliness written inside of his palms

Stone, soil, colour all alone

 

He fired the invaded coys

From the core of time

He released the sound

Of the song on the flower’s tounge

Hey! Other hey!

 

The amulet on my mother’s chest was sacred

A voice achoed to the whole universe

I came to circum ambulate

 

 

THE FACE OF MY MOTHER

 

It was my motherland

That I saw in her wrinkles

Deep, steep but soft

One that feeds from sorrowful times

 

As she tries to hide her scars

she brings out her geography

She tells her problems silently

With her face shadowed sorrow

 

 

 

 

Her eyes are ready to rise

Like the sun behind the mountains

Maybe she turned within herself

To a hearth with deepness

 

The curves on her forehead sıgn to

The mountains, the creek beds, the plains

Oh!

The soil promised to me

Like a field of flowers ;

My mother’s face

 

 

 

 

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