The Last Station Poem by Metin Sahin

THE NEW YEAR
may be new for others
but I feel
I am old..I am old
the weather is very cold
shivering the flame
of the candle
like my poor mother ayşe told
I feel cold..I feel cold
whites are falling from the heavens
the brıdals crown the mountains
the birds are flying as high
may be hungry and sigh
shoutıng with their dreadful cry
where are they
where they have gone
I see none
some like I
cry and cry
sometimes drops mild rain
that is my last train
waiting for my last station
may be aiming towards an unknown station
the new year may be new
for a few
feeling cold
my dreams are strangely haunted
as my poor dying mother told
I am old..I am old
I feel cold..I feel cold
sometimes comforts the mild rain
bu ın vain..in vain
my last train is waiting
woe for my passing years
I am now on my last train
dragged by a steam engine
approaching my unknown last station
as my poor mother
dying told
I feel cold..I feel cold