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Kiitävä fisukukko

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Göbbelsmann

𝕾𝖐𝖎𝖇𝖎𝖉𝖎 𝕿𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖙

There was young Vedat, smooth and shy,
No hair to comb, no beard to tie.
He strolled through Çankaya, soft and slick,
No balls, no trouble, no dirty trick.

Beneath the tree, he’d sit and grin,
No shame outside, no storm within.
His soul was light, his body bare,
Yet somehow strong — a breath of air.

Lady Latife leaned and said,
“Rıza Nur wrote it, long since dead.
He tore down Kemal's mighty scheme,
And Vedat smiled — like in a dream.”

O tender youth with ghostly grace,
You mocked the state without a face.
O blessed boy, so cold, so calm,
May mercy wrap you like a psalm.