The Human Torch

i.
The sun was hit,
the bloody severed head of Tammuz
rolled to the ground.

A ball of fire
with stretched arms
walked

just like a human being
walked
and fell by the wayside.

'I'm burning, burning, burning
I am only twenty-one
Oh people I'm dying!'

Now a human torch lies
under red poppies
and he is only 21.

ii.
I don't know who he was
Greek or Turk
perhaps your lover who never returned from the war
perhaps your brother.

I could not hear his last words
he wore his shirt of flames
how could he talk
he was burning
burning and burning,
he was a frail poppy, deep crimson.

iii.
At his last breath
he opened his arms to the world,
he stamped his seal of fire
on the asphalt road where he fell.
The road rise to embrace him into its melting body
and its arms open for ever...

Now his glowing embers
have scattered in the wind,
a flag without a nation
flapping on the plains of Mesaoria.

iv.
Don't come close to me
don't make heroic speeches
don't you dare bring
artificial flowers to our graves
— let me stand by the side of the our dead.

Don't come close to me
don't try to console me
don't you dare open
your blood-stained hands to God
— let me stand on this blood-red road.

Let me be the guardian
of these red poppies
and of the human torch.

Let me stand guard
let me stand guard
until all war is ended on our land.

Translation: Taner Baybars