razors in their hands
           hangmen wanted to cut to bits our tongues
           before our hearts

           in the mid of the fires
           while, hitting our logic to insanity chain
           we guarded a red rose in our hearts

slave men
many of them -even- unknowing how they are
deceived by the lies
shared the pogrom
gravitated to Madımak Hotel on 1993
thoughts were in the spider's web
beards are white, hearts are black
feet ran for killing
and burned the flowers' blossoms
with their seeds
which are the future of their children

reverend mullahs!?
now, how the soup tastes at your tables?

after two, they were thirty five comrades
who drained life
from their souls

they were
who had pure love
in their thoughts

now, they will be the guests of our souls
till the eternity
they were proud, revolutionist and compassionate
and they are at the comrades bitter consolation
resting in our hearts
moon lights shining on their faces

that’s why
every second of July
songs are more sorrowful
consciousnesses are more rebellious!

my grudge sharpened -like a knife- day by day
aaaah aah ah!
at the yearn of the friendly smell
at the resistance, not to forget
my feelings
my feelings, remained orphan

Turgay Usanmaz