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Ceyhun Mahi Dec 2016
You used to be a silent night,
Who was off from success afar.
But now that you are shining bright,
You have become a famous star.
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2016
Wherever I see a harsh or dry sight,
All the love they carry my hands sprinkle,
Sometimes in sunlight, sometimes in moonlight,
When I'm able to, little by little.
When I am like the fresh flowers of youth,
Or when I am like ripe stems of old age,
No matter which one, it's a solid truth
That I will always write down love on each page.
I write it down unto my blank paper,
I pour it down into my own music,
I present it for free to each taker,
And tell it with eloquence's magic.
  Each song, each verse, each fragrance and move,
  Is all solely for the sake of sweet love.
Ceyhun Mahi Jan 2017
One sees the moon, shedding a tear they must,
Another sees her and gets blind in lust.
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2016
We are a mess! But a beautiful mess.
And at times an unbelievable mess,
Both in our wonders and in our failures.
O Mankind is such a wonderful mess!
Ceyhun Mahi Mar 2020
O soul of mine, O sufferer of sadness,
    Leave all the pills, believe in yourself,
I'm sure you can withstand the drowning madness,
    Leave them for a day on the wooden shelf.
Be strong; you are a Poet after all,
    A sorcerer of words who's rarely seen,
Even then, glorious will be your fall,
    For you'll achieve a state who's pure and clean.
No medication anymore, no more!
    Step out the door, behold chaotic moves.
What has the world today for you in store?
    You do enjoy the rush, excitement proves.
It's so easy to say these words, but still
I can't go on a day without a pill.
I find that I have handled the volta perfectly in this sonnet.
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 2016
A short embrace from long ago,
Is forgotten by the body,
But the mind will let never go,
Of such a precious memory.
Ceyhun Mahi Jul 2017
Upon the waves there's being surfed,
And at cafes delights are served,
While the orange sun shares a ray,
At the end of the glowing day.

A summertime sadness and glee,
Is played alongside of the sea,
Who is rosy, pink as the sky,
As the beautiful waves pass by.
With some references to Lana Del Rey.
Ceyhun Mahi Feb 2019
A beach – a sea – a breeze – a night,
My mind — my heart – feelings – and mood,
Lit up by golden lamppost light,
Alone, while I do hope and brood.
My hope's from beauty, and from
Darkness is all the brooding, here
Making me both alive and numb,
Between a joy, between some fear.
But oh, the wave did hit my feet!
A coldness embraces my skin,
(My socks all wet), it did retreat,
Back to the sea – where have I been?
    Both hope and brooding vibes did leave,
    To be mindful, I now achieve.
Ceyhun Mahi Feb 2018
This sheen, it is a soothing glow of moonlight,
This night, it is a calming show of moonlight.

I ponder, thinking about the rosewater
Of love, seeing it in the flow of moonlight.

I see silver-wings in the waving waters,
Spread widely, as if it's a crow of moonlight.

I view something in my imagination:
It's smelling like lilies that brow of moonlight.

Is that an ode to moonbeams, that silver shape?
In the sky there's a bowing bow of moonlight.

Let's sway like the trees in the midnight breeze!
Silently in the meadow of moonlight.

The silence penetrates the lonely night,
Mâhî, that it is calm, you know of moonlight.
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2018
At this misty morning scene,
Traces of winter were seen:
The trees were embraced by mist,
A lovely sight I had missed,
Adorned with dew were the leaves,
Seeing how the morning leaves.
These types of rhymes are very loved in Turkish poetry but I haven't seen much of them in English poetry. I usually hear them in rap songs though.
Ceyhun Mahi Mar 2018
My desire for you is gone,
Like the blazing red sun at dawn.
It was there for a fleeting moment,
But now sadly everything’s done.
A ruba'i.
Ceyhun Mahi Jan 2017
The first night of 2017,
Hearing some of Gary Burton's tango,
Reminiscing of 2016,
Shaping the perfect atmosphere of night,
Accompanied by this candle who's bright,
Flickering because of the music's vibe,
While seeing me reminisce, describe.
Ceyhun Mahi Mar 2017
Poets and writers strife to be the best,
By offering the magic of words down,
While still narrating what's within their chest,
Trying to conquer Fame's and Glamour's crown.
But the verses and pearls who I do write,
Are neither for fame, neither for a name,
Only for preserving the lovely sight,
That's sometimes mundane or adorned with fame.
Because, how else could I preserve these things
That range from sorrow, from love to nature,
Other than placing them in my writings,
While feeling also a harmless pleasure?
  Let seekers dive in the rivers of ranks,
  And me enjoy along the riverbanks.
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2016
In September, I've reached my grounds,
And dug up the jewels and gems
Who were all for the sake of Love,
And were all disguised as poems.

In September, I've met a soul,
Who is far away from my sigh,
Who showed myself with smiles and wits
And refrained me from being shy.

But even after *September
,
I still do remember
Every lesson I have learned there,
While holding them with grateful care.
Ceyhun Mahi Jul 2017
With poetry I'm blessed -
Inspiration is guest -
Wandering around the world,
نام من جيحون است
A Macaronic poem, mixing English with Farsi. I can not speak Farsi well, only some phrases and a good number of words because Turkish loaned much words from Farsi. It was a fun poem to write.
Ceyhun Mahi Sep 2020
Night and day I see your face at stores;
A famous one, seen in different shapes,
That does express life, which each fan adores,
Adventures with downfalls and escapes.
Like stars of olden days, in black and white,
In every scene you shine with emotions,
Each smile, each tear a different sight,
Praised for many philosophical notions.
Oh, and my teenage years were filled with you,
Right and left I would see you for a while,
Till I would suddenly find someone new,
Making me feel safe with a lonely smile.
Amongst the loved ones you were then, O star,
Nonstop, while I was always apart so far.
It fits perfectly for a sonnet :)
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 2017
There, the orange and shining sun,
Does shimmer on the sea,
Returning till the breezing dawn,
So things become nightly.

The streets and sights of the city,
Welcomed by nightly wind,
Become more slowly more pretty,
With neon light who's signed.
Ceyhun Mahi Dec 2016
So much happens in that pale moonlight,
In which the bright moon combs her golden-hair,
(inspiration lost)
In which some people fall into despair.
I have those moments when inspiration suddenly strikes and when it disappears just like in the third line.
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 2017
The moon's like a 'C', the strips like a 'I'
The bridge's like a 'T', the ways like a 'Y'.
Ceyhun Mahi Jul 2017
The night's again on youthful minds,
As sunlight is upon the day,
Joining around with different kinds,
Making the world go round and play.
They revel much at sprightly nights,
With golden cups in silver hands,
Dancing as dazzling diamonds bright,
With tongues who no one understands.
Free is the joy who is held there,
As swirling leaves do fall on grounds,
Without a woe, without a care,
Yet they do make a lot of sounds.
  After night, when at last awake,
  They're welcomed by the one: headache.
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 2017
Hiç bir yer kalmaz kuru,
Yaş olur topraklar,
Düşer Nisan yağmuru,
Düşer sarı yapraklar.
Döner yine bu Gülşen,
Hatırlatır zarafet,
Ve hayran kalırım ben,
Göklerden gelir rahmet.
Açılır sümbül ve gül,
Mevsimler yavaş geçer,
Lakin istemez gönül,
Bırakmamayı seçer.
  Gitti Hazan mevsimi,
  Gitti Nisan mevsimi.
A Turkish Sonnet about April.
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 2018
The feelings who I had before,
Are here no longer anymore.
Your eyes, your lips, your face and hair,
I like, but now I don’t adore.
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 2018
Not falling for you – that was my vow,
Now in desires' chains, I did it anyhow.

Even if I will become blind, my friend,
Seeing myself in greed, I'll not allow.

Even in the winter and the autumn,
Rose, out of humbleness to you I bow.

Upon your cheek I see a glowing candle,
I'm a fire since I have seen your brow.

Mâhî, you used to be a child of simplicity,
But a prince of riddles and puzzles now.
Since my 20th birthday I started a new collection of my own poetry. I've made peace with my poetry written in my teenage years, now's the time for something new. Poems like these.
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2018
Caress and then betray is not my way of love,
To let them wait and stay is not my way of love.

Although sometimes it's true, always seeing this bonding
As just a fleeting play is not my way of love.

Secrets of me and her stay a secret forever,
Putting that on display is not my way of love.

Lies and vile corruption accompanied by lust,
Leading her to that way is not my way of love.

My truth will stay I learned, even if she's beautiful,
With her to go astray is not my way of love.

I am no butterfly, although my life is one,
To love for just a day is not my way of love.

I have no love right now, only a broken heart,
But to wait and decay is not my way of love.
Ceyhun Mahi Aug 2018
O beauty,
O sun!
Please, don't look at my appearance,
But look inside my soul and heart,
For there is more to see
Here than outside.

O beauty,
O moon!
How can I see and find
The inside of your skin if distance
Is the main chain who keeps me
Away from you?

O beauty,
O star!
I would like to love your grace,
But stars are far away,
Thus meeting is not an option
For me, for you.
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2016
There comes Winter's cold roar,
And makes the ringlets soar
All in the icy air,
Caressing all the hair.
Embraced by a warm coat,
Protecting a cold throat,
The air is veiled by mist,
And the bright sun is missed.
How beautiful is this view!
How beautiful are you!
Ceyhun Mahi Aug 2016
The clouds slowly conceal sunlight at night,
Who then slowly reveal moonlight at night.

In this city roams the Moon of New-York,
Who's face reflects the city's light at night.

All kinds of people walk around up here,
In lit streets who're full with delight at night.

When this city is seen, it looks like an
Huge ocean of lights by eyesight at night.

Every time I look at this adorned place,
I fail to forget that bright sight at night.

At sunset this city becomes one square,
A place where people can unite at night.

From miles away you can see this city's
Presence and signs by it's skylight at night.

Every second someone gets Pleasure's kiss,
While another feels Despair's bite at night.

In here roam hedonistic people,
And people who are strict and tight at night.

In this city who never sleeps at night,
I hear singing in highs and deeps at night.


The breeze of the summer stays at night,
Witnesses the turning to days at night.

I can't fail to remember this city,
Since I've seen that luminous face at night.

Because of the countless sighs of lovers,
You can feel in the air Love's haze at night.

The city's melody is determined,
By what each individual plays at night.

The strangest of all and mundane of all;
Each one has occurred in this place at night.

The rich, the poor, the mad, women and men
All walk along light-adorned ways at night.

The lights reach every soul in this city,
Coming from hotels and cafes at night.

Wherever that Moon goes, it leaves it's mark,
At each place you'll find that Moon's trace at night.

It takes miles for pilgrims from far away,
To enter this place trough highways at night.

In this city who never sleeps at night,
I hear singing in highs and deeps at night.


The neon lights cover the street at night,
Who are set in places who fleet at night.

Traces of drama, tragedy and more,
Is felt in every hotel suite at night.

The homeless and party-goers here,
Both walk on tired and sore feet at night.

Meals on wheels at sight at every corner,
To serve people who want to eat at night.

Both the old and youth are called to places,
With pleasures who are bittersweet at night.

Streets who reflect neon lights in puddles,
Are places for lovers to meet at night.

So many people walk along themselves,
Yet there's no time to greet at night.

This awake city who is always breathing,
Always blows to me a conceit at night.

I can't seem to stop to describe this place!
About this jungle of concrete at night!

In this city who never sleeps at night,
I hear singing in highs and deeps at night.


This place witnesses misery at night,
And also witnesses beauty at night.

Millions of fishes are swimming around,
Trough streets in this luminous sea at night.

The gates stay open without any rest,
All people come and go freely at night.

Trough happiness and even ill horror,
This places stays silent and steady at night.

Those who're in love in this city see with
Little eyes, who perceive blurry at night.

Lovers are tangled up in each other,
While raindrops fall in an alley at night.

No one is an exception in this place,
Darkness veils your ethnicity at night.

Many have acquired shine up here,
And lost, in that shining city at night.

Ideas are hoisted out of my well!
Gihon will end his poetry, at night.

*In this city who never sleeps at night,
I hear singing in highs and deeps at night.
Poetic Form: Terkib-i Bent; several ghazals woven into each other but with a different rhyme for each stanza. Each ghazal is closed with a couplet who always comes back so that a next stanza can come in with a different rhyme.
Ceyhun Mahi Jan 2017
Music is in the air at the gleaming funfair,
With the moon and sun there celebrating cheery.

There are millions of streams under the signs of gleams,
Following the night's dreams with curiosity.

Shining are the bright lights, throughout the depths of nights,
Offering many sights as a sweet luxury.

They are shooting like stars, the luxuriant cars,
Along the shiny bars and each murky alley.

Now it's time of the dawn; off are lights of neon,
Lets celebrate Gihon, instead of poetry!
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2018
No one has or will have a Light like his,
He, who was sent as a Mercy and bliss.

One man, yet much uncountable blessings,
Clueless how to repay for all of this.

I do envy those who have seen his face,
To times I have not seen I do reminisce.

We still have yet not seen his bright being.
Until that Day, it is the rose we miss.

Mâhî lacks rhymes to continue this praise,
That Day will show how luminous he is.
Ceyhun Mahi Mar 2018
1

I was inspired by a lovely queen,
Who granted my mind a beautiful scene.
I found this picture in the rose-garden,
This sight disturbed my gaze, without a pardon:
The grayish, flowing smoke is like a curtain,
Who might be behind it? It is uncertain.
It hides perhaps the face of a beauty,
With misty clouds of locks, swinging with glee.

There is a cigarette within the rose!
The gentle breezes carry its thick smoke.
Who put that cigarette who burns at there?
It's strange, but beauty makes it look so fair;
It's in balance to my adoring eyes;
Nature who is pure meets with smoky sighs.

But what about that rose, who is embraced
By smoke? Those leaves have sorrow's taste.
To reflect upon this, that is my task,
So with curiosity I ask:
Why so sad? Your dewy tears are like silver,
How can you be so sad? I am your lover.
Why so sad, dainty flower of the fresh spring?
You are the queen; the nightingale the king.
You are the lip who does talk to my muse!
You are the pink; the rosy 'gainst the blues.
You are the cup with the wine of my love,
Who goes around with the sign of my love.
Your hue appears upon the face of beauty –
Those glows upon your face – they are so rosy!
Some faces look like roses, who don't harden,
As a matter of fact, like fine rose-gardens.
With your brilliant glows they do compare
The beauties of mankind, who're kind and fair.
Your lovely imagery they did overuse
But oh, alas; I am in love with you,
So, it's hard for me to refrain 'bout roses,
That is what my poetic soul proposes.

2: Autumn and Winter

Now let´s turn our attention to the winter
And autumn, where icy breezes saunter.

O beautiful rose, you wait and you wait,
Till this garden becomes a sunny state.
Your stem does wait patiently, asleep,
The sun won't help that time; your slumber's deep.
The rosebud-lips do open up much slower,
Like each and every fresh and fragrant flower.

And that's the way of fleeting, pretty nature,
It can dispirit, it can enrapture.

3: On the Holy Prophet, peace be upon him

I know a Friend, very dear to my soul,
That Rose – without a crime my heart he stole.
With love, to him this piece I dedicate,
The pearly Rose who's in the purest state:
I wish I had rose-leaves to write upon,
To show, to proof to him; for him my love.
So that marks of my writing will release
The scent who lies within the fragrant rose.
While dancing in the air, I will blow it
Towards his direction, from me: a poet.
A poet who loves the rose and loves him,
And loves mankind and more within this dream.
I was inspired by a picture of a rose. I find this poem very associative.
I don't indulge that much in religious verses but sometimes it just happens with a passion.
Ceyhun Mahi Oct 2017
Before my eyes I see a dreamy sight:
Her sleepy look does glaze over the days,
As olden vintage clothing of her sways,
Absent of strength, away from lively might.
Her autumn tresses hide her face who's bright,
Aglow surrounded by the daily rays
Who put her, except the rest, in a haze
Like a murky, filmy and misty night.

Who she might be, I do not know, alas,
She's distant from my sight, like she's to me,
But still this filmy tale I did narrate,
About a hazy mood, about a lass,
Who did inspire me. Now I hope she
Will find a bright, soothing, yet lively state.
Ceyhun Mahi Aug 2020
I saw a girl who's winsome face was bright,
    Next to me a fleeting presence like smoke,
Her eyes were dreamy like a balmy night,
    She smiled and laughed, although there was no joke.
She was so beautiful, but did not know;
    I saw the empty sadness in her eyes,
Like a wind towards the stars she did blow,
    Forever high, like missing butterflies.
So sad, but still nothing could beat her charms,
    A silliness – from fear she was not fleeing –
She looked me in the eyes, opened her arms,
    And suddenly embraced my broken being.
Three seconds warm, and she let go – apart –
Yet it lasted much longer in my heart.
Ceyhun Mahi May 2022
Milton! your youthful strife with fickle time,
Expressed with reason and an ancient rhyme,
Is something I endure at twenty-three,
Wishing much more than what I'm meant to be.
Your time was different, when art had class,
When Thought had its respect among the mass.
I know that life is short but fine, when skilled
To see past the dread of living, and ill-willed.
I know that faith is quick to end, as death
Is quick to come – just only with one breath.
And though I'm ignorant of many ways,
I am much wise, because I know my place.
This quantity of wisdom was not a lot
For you, but much for me – yes – this aware Thought.
It was at this age that I had compiled all my poems from my teenage years into a single book, and began a new collection of poems, written in my twenties. I believe beginning this arrangement with this poem, some rhymed couplets, addressing John Milton, the great English poet, who also had written verses on becoming twenty-three, is a meaningful one.

''How soon hath Time the subtle thief of youth
Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.''

– John Milton
Ceyhun Mahi Oct 2021
I heard a silky voice, deep in the night,
Between a moon and face had been my sight.
A dusk-haired girl, perhaps perfumed with musk,
Had said to me: ''don't hurry to get right.''
Ceyhun Mahi Aug 2018
I have read your words, O Poet of Pain,
Their musicality is bliss to ears,
A taste of sweets to mind when each one hears
About the lonely stars, about the rain.
The urn, the nightingale have stayed the same,
Since the moment they were written down, fears
Of loss and of decay (because of years)
Are not to be found – nothing gone to vain.

Your life and sacred love is stated clearly,
For beauty and the truth, who I can see
Although, like springs, it's repeated and old.
O Bard of Bright Letters! I thank you dearly,
That you have written lines of poetry
To us and yourself; their worth 's more than gold.
I have read many poets but I know only a few who have infleunced me a lot. John Keats is one of them. Beauty, Love and Truth described through romantic verses referring to nature. That is what motivates me as a poet, and I have found that in Keats.
Ceyhun Mahi Mar 2017
Once core of the Land of The Rising Sun,
Where the business of Emperors were done.

Over a thousand-years a capital,
Flourishing art and culture of people.

Most cities emerged from little bazaars,
From little candles to luminous stars.

But now a city of customs and calm,
Where all the fine-arts and culture blooms from.

Cities like these are filled with mystery,
Alluring folks from distance silently.
I've never been there but I think it's a beautiful city.
This is an excerpt of my much longer work where I am describing Kyoto and its surroundings in rhyming couplets (the Mesnevi poetic-form).
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 2018
A melancholic gaze
Upon my walks I have, born out of wanderlust,
Having thoughts and feelings 'bout dust
And Byron's ways,

The wind is in my raven hair,
    A poet is my heart,
Between hope and despair
I classify my written art.

Many women and wine out of still skulls
I am a stranger to,
But not to skills
Of natures who're romantic as a hue.
I've been reading more ABOUT Lord Byron than reading Lord Byron lately these times. I can say that his ways as a poet do motivate me to become a better poet myself.
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2016
Feelings were always in my mind,
Only now can I write them down
Because ignorance had me blind,
Feelings and words were left to drown.
But now I know the names of birds,
Places, feelings, poems and more,
What happens and what had occurred,
Who're all locked up in my mind's core.
Now the inspiration strikes me
And picks the words from the surface
Who match with my soul's feelings rightly
And pour the words almost flawless.
I'm in to write at all the times,
To just chant smoothly with my tongue,
Stringing words together with rhymes
And compose another nice song.
The worry that haunts me the most,
Is that I'll write from night 'till dawn,
So that there is no paper left
To express and to compose on!
I never knew that I could draw,
These verses, these poems at all,
But now I can't leave my pen still
And never let her inked lips fall!

And when I am finally done,
When the stained lips of my pen lift,
And rest down like the drowning sun,
I thank Gracious God for this Gift.
Ceyhun Mahi Dec 2016
When it's for me the time of day,
For them it is the time of night,
But still we are able to play
This game where in battle we fight.

One side of this world blessed with light,
One side covered under a shade,
But still that does not interrupt
The way we play, the way we trade.
A different topic this time.
Ceyhun Mahi Mar 2022
Someone said: ''they're like butterflies at day,
And slowly in the night they fly away.''

A time to bloom for them's the time of night,
When visiting, they do adorn the sight.

To where, to who and how – we do not know,
Except some, who are involved in their show.

With swaying moves and dancing fans they swing,
Accompanied by ancient songs they sing.

Their fan is blooming, fair as the summer-flowers,
Crafted in many dedicated hours.
Ceyhun Mahi Jan 2020
Many a year ago I saw a garden,
Although 'twas filled with sands, with a few flowers,
When seen, my heart's feelings did never harden,
'Cause merry lovers spend there all their hours.

A lustful kiss, a cup of unknown wine
Where given to each other, all alone,
Without fragrant jewels looking divine,
Sometimes a patch of grass, but mostly stone.

Where are the lovers now? I do not see them,
Nor feel the air becoming warm by sighs,
Did they go into hiding? who's seen them?
Without any clouds or sun are the skies.

Love's important, and beautifies the ugly,
Without lovers the ground and skies stay dusty.
Really, where are the lovers now?
Ceyhun Mahi Dec 2018
I know for sure
That if the pretty poet had a life
So long as parrots,
This collection of poetry,
So small compared to others,
Would have been filled with soothing dreams,
Scented with the smell of sweet flowers
Growing in the wide meadows,
Where slender nymphs do live
And little nightingales,
Singing great songs.
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2016
How wonderful: this internet!
Filled with oceanic places,
Connecting without a presence
With glowing distant faces.
A web made of luminous strings
Creating millions of mazes,
Who're adorned with good and ill things,
And where it's hard to find traces.
A Web that's used but can't be seen,
In material World's spaces,
Only glimpses on a bright screen
Of millions of databases.
A little inspired by the Qasidah (or Kaside) rhyme scheme that goes like: aa, xa, xa, xa etc.
Ceyhun Mahi Jan 2017
Hak'tan başka yok baki -
Bu gün ki zaman yeni,
Ve dün ki zaman eski.
Göremem yavaş etki,
Öyle geçer zaman ki.

Çok yavaş büyür fidan,
Geçersin karşısından,
Kalır öyle her zaman -
Baktın oldu gülistan!
Öyle geçer zaman ki.
Inspired by Erkin Koray's 'Oyle Geçer Zaman ki'.
Ceyhun Mahi Mar 2018
So, all these fancy paints of nights,
Where do they end up at I wonder?
Down the sink and away from lights,
Leaving the paint and painter lonely.
Ceyhun Mahi Sep 2017
Merhaba ey parlak şehir!
Bu vakitte yalnız meydan,
Görünmüyor ki bir insan,
Sokaklar kurumuş nehir.

Yalnız deniz yeli gelir,
Kuşlar geçer zaman zaman,
Millet kafede mi bu an?
Bu şehir ve Mevlam bilir.

Ne o aşıkları gördüm,
Nede ışıkları gördüm,
Bir serin boşluk sadece.

Lakin bu ortam rahattı,
Erkendi şehrin saati,
Bu da bazen kardır gece.
Greetings o gleaming city!
At this time the square's lonely,
Because I see no person,
The streets are dried rivers.

Only a sea breeze does come,
Birds pass by from time to time,
Are the crowds at the cafes?
Only the city and God knows that.

I haven't seen the lovers,
Neither have I seen the lights,
Only a serene emptiness.

But this atmosphere was calm,
It was an early time of the city,
This is sometimes too a benefit at night.
Ceyhun Mahi Jan 2017
My words are neither dark nor bright;
No lands of ice under the night,
Nor warm rose-gardens dawned with light,
Pastel hues and tones are their sight.
Ceyhun Mahi Oct 2020
When haunted by memories of the pasts,
Laying in bed, trying to sleep and dream
About the things who in the end will last,
I am hopeless, like nights who yearn to gleam.
I remember the park, the bench, the kiss,
The slow-passed music, and a warm embrace,
Things who I only at nighttime do miss,
And never think about throughout my days.
It is not love, that love of blissful youth,
The touches of her warmth, a stream of joy,
Who when the hands did touch always did sooth,
Or that I was an energetic boy;
It is the sleeping ignorance in me
That I do miss, who set me always free.
Ceyhun Mahi Dec 2016
Zonder pen en papier is er geen dag,
En zonder schrijven is er geen gelach.
Ookal was ik ziek en lag ik op bed,
Was het nooit mijn schrijvende hand die lag.
Ceyhun Mahi Jul 2017
The pink waves of the sea,
Under the afternoon sun,
Do come and go
As memories,
So softly.

The rosy sands,
So thin and tender,
Do observe the flow of them,
As this poem does.
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