The world is like a kitchen.
Our hopes, our desires are cooked.
Our rights have been eaten.
Even our flesh is eaten
By those who rule the world.
The dome of the sky is like a hood,
But it cannot take away
Sorrow, humiliation, cruelty.
The heavens have lost their power.
And those places are very far away.
There are many light-years between us.
… Wake up from these thoughts, poet,
Turn off the light.
The electricity bill is high this month.
Those who eat our flesh
Will ***** more blood on us.
We must flee from this kitchen,
To the kitchen of Hell,
That is, to the steppe cauldron.
Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 3:18 AM UTC
The world is like a kitchen.
Our hopes, our desires are cooked.
Our rights have been eaten.
Even our flesh is eaten
By those who rule the world.
The dome of the sky is like a hood,
But it cannot take away
Sorrow, humiliation, cruelty.
The heavens have lost their power.
And those places are very far away.
There are many light-years between us.
… Wake up from these thoughts, poet,
Turn off the light.
The electricity bill is high this month.
Those who eat our flesh
Will ***** more blood on us.
We must flee from this kitchen,
To the kitchen of Hell,
That is, to the steppe cauldron.
Bahtiyar Hidayet
