çok güzel bir tsm eseri. zeki müren ve bülent ersoy’dan dinlemek vaciptir.
ben küskünüm feleğe, düştüm bitmez çileye
nerelere gideyim? kara bahtım, gülmeye
ben ne ettim feleğe? verdi bana bu derdi
yıllardır hep ağlattın, şu gönlüm güldürmedi
ben küskünüm feleğe, düştüm bitmez çileye
nerelere gideyim? kara bahtım, gülmeye
mükemmel bir sezen aksu şarkısı. 1986 yılındaki "git" isimli albümünün açılış parçasıdır bu şarkı. sözler sezen aksu’ya, müzik onno tunç’a ait. sezen aksu bu şarkıyı 1991’de "gülümse" albümünde remix olarak koydu.
bir rüya görür gibi
seninle bulutlara uçtuğumda
bir ateş yakar beni
sevginle tutuştuğumu sanırdım
yağmur olur damla damla
öperdim, öperdim, dudaklarından
bir nehir gibi çağlar
akardım, akardım damarlarından
değer mi hiç, değer mi hiç
değer mi, değer mi, değer mi söyle
bir rüya ömür boyu
sürer mi, sürer mi, sürer mi böyle
değer canım, değer elbet
değer bir tanem aşk için her şeye
ne hayal ne de gerçek
engel mi kanatlanmadan uçmaya
bir rüya görür gibi
seninle bulutlara uçtuğumda
bir ateş yakar beni
sevginle tutuştuğumu sanırdım
yağmur olur damla damla
öperdim, öperdim, dudaklarından
bir nehir gibi çağlar
akardım, akardım damarlarından
değer mi hiç, değer mi hiç
değer mi, değer mi, değer mi söyle
bir rüya ömür boyu
sürer mi, sürer mi, sürer mi böyle
değer canım, değer elbet
değer bir tanem aşk için her şeye
ne hayal ne de gerçek
engel mi kanatlanmadan uçmaya
hayatımda dinlediğim en mükemmel şarkıladan biri. böyle şarkılar ancak 40 yılda bir yapılabiliyor maalesef...
hafıza şampiyonu melik duyar’ın hazırladığı hafıza seti.
aslında aşık olduğunu belli etmemek diye bir şey yoktur. tam tersi aşık olduğunu zannetmek vardır. anlık bir olaydır bu. bir anlık bir kıvılcımdan ortaya çıkar. zamanla aşık olduğunu zannettiğin kişinin ne menem bir şey olduğu ortaya çıkar ve aşık olduğunu sanırsın ama yanılırsın.
aşık olduğunu belli etmemek hadisesi de komik bir hadisedir bana göre. insan aşık olmuşsa, kalbi aşık olduğu için çarpıyorsa niye bunu belli etmesin ki? eğer odasına kapanıyorsa, olur olmadık şeylere gülüyorsa, yüzünden gülümseme eksik olmuyorsa, niye aşık olduğunu belli etmesin ki...
aşık olduğunu belli etmemek hadisesi de komik bir hadisedir bana göre. insan aşık olmuşsa, kalbi aşık olduğu için çarpıyorsa niye bunu belli etmesin ki? eğer odasına kapanıyorsa, olur olmadık şeylere gülüyorsa, yüzünden gülümseme eksik olmuyorsa, niye aşık olduğunu belli etmesin ki...
güzel bir jethro tull şarkısı.
i believe in fires at midnight, when the dogs have all been fed.
a golden toddy on the mantle; a broken gun beneath the bed.
silken mist outside the window -
frogs and newts slip in the dark.
too much hurry ruins a body:
i’ll sit easy; fan the spark.
kindled by the dying embers, of another working day.
go upstairs: take off your make-up -
fold your clothes neatly away.
me, i’ll sit and write this love song
as i all too seldom do -
build a little fire this midnight.
it’s good to be back home with you.
kindled by the dying embers, of another working day.
go upstairs: take off your make-up -
fold your clothes neatly away.
me, i’ll sit and write this love song
as i all too seldom do -
build a little fire this midnight.
it’s good to be back home with you.
i believe in fires at midnight, when the dogs have all been fed.
a golden toddy on the mantle; a broken gun beneath the bed.
silken mist outside the window -
frogs and newts slip in the dark.
too much hurry ruins a body:
i’ll sit easy; fan the spark.
kindled by the dying embers, of another working day.
go upstairs: take off your make-up -
fold your clothes neatly away.
me, i’ll sit and write this love song
as i all too seldom do -
build a little fire this midnight.
it’s good to be back home with you.
kindled by the dying embers, of another working day.
go upstairs: take off your make-up -
fold your clothes neatly away.
me, i’ll sit and write this love song
as i all too seldom do -
build a little fire this midnight.
it’s good to be back home with you.
45 dakika uzunluğunda bir jethro tull şarkısı. bir şaheser.
really don’t mind if you sit this one out.
my words but a whisper -- your deafness a shout.
i may make you feel but i can’t make you think.
your sperm’s in the gutter -- your love’s in the sink.
so you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
and the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in
the tidal destruction
the moral melee.
the elastic retreat rings the close of play
as the last wave uncovers the newfangled way.
but your new shoes are worn at the heels and
your suntan does rapidly peel and
your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
and the love that i feel is so far away:
i’m a bad dream that i just had today -- and you
shake your head and
say it’s a shame.
spin me back down the years and the days of my youth.
draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth.
spin me down the long ages: let them sing the song.
see there! a son is born -- and we pronounce him fit to fight.
there are black-heads on his shoulders, and he pees himself in the night.
we’ll
make a man of him
put him to trade
teach him
to play monopoly and
to sing in the rain.
the poet and the painter casting shadows on the water --
as the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea.
the do-er and the thinker: no allowance for the other --
as the failing light illuminates the mercenary’s creed.
the home fire burning: the kettle almost boiling --
but the master of the house is far away.
the horses stamping -- their warm breath clouding
in the sharp and frosty morning of the day.
and the poet lifts his pen while the soldier sheaths his sword.
and the youngest of the family is moving with authority.
building castles by the sea, he dares the tardy tide to wash them all aside.
the cattle quietly grazing at the grass down by the river
where the swelling mountain water moves onward to the sea:
the builder of the castles renews the age-old purpose
and contemplates the milking girl whose offer is his need.
the young men of the household have
all gone into service and
are not to be expected for a year.
the innocent young master -- thoughts moving ever faster --
has formed the plan to change the man he seems.
and the poet sheaths his pen while the soldier lifts his sword.
and the oldest of the family is moving with authority.
coming from across the sea, he challenges the son who puts him to the run.
what do you do when
the old man’s gone -- do you want to be him? and
your real self sings the song.
do you want to free him?
no one to help you get up steam --
and the whirlpool turns you `way off-beam.
later.
i’ve come down from the upper class to mend your rotten ways.
my father was a man-of-power whom everyone obeyed.
so come on all you criminals!
i’ve got to put you straight just like i did with my old man --
twenty years too late.
your bread and water’s going cold.
your hair is too short and neat.
i’ll judge you all and make damn sure that no-one judges me.
you curl your toes in fun as you smile at everyone -- you meet the stares.
you’re unaware that your doings aren’t done.
and you laugh most ruthlessly as you tell us what not to be.
but how are we supposed to see where we should run?
i see you shuffle in the courtroom with
your rings upon your fingers and
your downy little sidies and
your silver-buckle shoes.
playing at the hard case, you follow the example of the comic-paper idol
who lets you bend the rules.
so!
come on ye childhood heroes!
won’t you rise up from the pages of your comic-books
your super crooks
and show us all the way.
well! make your will and testament. won’t you?
join your local government.
we’ll have superman for president
let robin save the day.
you put your bet on number one and it comes up every time.
the other kids have all backed down and they put you first in line.
and so you finally ask yourself just how big you are --
and take your place in a wiser world of bigger motor cars.
and you wonder who to call on.
so! where the hell was biggles when you needed him last saturday?
and where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you though?
they’re all resting down in cornwall --
writing up their memoirs for a paper-back edition
of the boy scout manual.
later.
see there! a man born -- and we pronounce him fit for peace.
there’s a load lifted from his shoulders with the discovery of his disease.
we’ll
take the child from him
put it to the test
teach it
to be a wise man
how to fool the rest.
quote
we will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional
god is an overwhelming responsibility
we walked through the maternity ward and saw 218 babies wearing nylons
cats are on the upgrade
upgrade? hipgrave. oh, mac.
later
in the clear white circles of morning wonder,
i take my place with the lord of the hills.
and the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured (in neat little rows)
sporting canvas frills.
with their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention,
while queueing for sarnies at the office canteen.
saying -- how’s your granny and
good old ernie: he coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win.
the legends (worded in the ancient tribal hymn) lie cradled
in the seagull’s call.
and all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist’s fall.
the poet and the wise man stand behind the gun,
and signal for the crack of dawn.
light the sun.
do you believe in the day? do you?
believe in the day! the dawn creation of the kings has begun.
soft venus (lonely maiden) brings the ageless one.
do you believe in the day?
the fading hero has returned to the night -- and fully pregnant with the day,
wise men endorse the poet’s sight.
do you believe in the day? do you? believe in the day!
let me tell you the tales of your life of
your love and the cut of the knife
the tireless oppression
the wisdom instilled
the desire to kill or be killed.
let me sing of the losers who lie in the street as the last bus goes by.
the pavements ar empty: the gutters run red -- while the fool
toasts his god in the sky.
so come all ye young men who are building castles!
kindly state the time of the year and join your voices in a hellish chorus.
mark the precise nature of your fear.
let me help you pick up your dead as the sins of the father are fed
with
the blood of the fools and
the thoughts of the wise and
from the pan under your bed.
let me make you a present of song as
the wise man breaks wind and is gone while
the fool with the hour-glass is cooking his goose and
the nursery rhyme winds along.
so! come all ye young men who are building castles!
kindly state the time of the year and join your voices in a hellish chorus.
mark the precise nature of your fear.
see! the summer lightning casts its bolts upon you
and the hour of judgement draweth near.
would you be
the fool stood in his suit of armour or
the wiser man who rushes clear.
so! come on ye childhood heroes!
won’t your rise up from the pages of your comic-books
your super-crooks and
show us all the way.
well! make your will and testament.
won’t you? join your local government.
we’ll have superman for president
let robin save the day.
so! where the hell was biggles when you needed him last saturday?
and where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you through?
they’re all resting down in cornwall -- writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition of the boy scout manual.
of course
so you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
really don’t mind if you sit this one out.
my words but a whisper -- your deafness a shout.
i may make you feel but i can’t make you think.
your sperm’s in the gutter -- your love’s in the sink.
so you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
and the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in
the tidal destruction
the moral melee.
the elastic retreat rings the close of play
as the last wave uncovers the newfangled way.
but your new shoes are worn at the heels and
your suntan does rapidly peel and
your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
and the love that i feel is so far away:
i’m a bad dream that i just had today -- and you
shake your head and
say it’s a shame.
spin me back down the years and the days of my youth.
draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth.
spin me down the long ages: let them sing the song.
see there! a son is born -- and we pronounce him fit to fight.
there are black-heads on his shoulders, and he pees himself in the night.
we’ll
make a man of him
put him to trade
teach him
to play monopoly and
to sing in the rain.
the poet and the painter casting shadows on the water --
as the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea.
the do-er and the thinker: no allowance for the other --
as the failing light illuminates the mercenary’s creed.
the home fire burning: the kettle almost boiling --
but the master of the house is far away.
the horses stamping -- their warm breath clouding
in the sharp and frosty morning of the day.
and the poet lifts his pen while the soldier sheaths his sword.
and the youngest of the family is moving with authority.
building castles by the sea, he dares the tardy tide to wash them all aside.
the cattle quietly grazing at the grass down by the river
where the swelling mountain water moves onward to the sea:
the builder of the castles renews the age-old purpose
and contemplates the milking girl whose offer is his need.
the young men of the household have
all gone into service and
are not to be expected for a year.
the innocent young master -- thoughts moving ever faster --
has formed the plan to change the man he seems.
and the poet sheaths his pen while the soldier lifts his sword.
and the oldest of the family is moving with authority.
coming from across the sea, he challenges the son who puts him to the run.
what do you do when
the old man’s gone -- do you want to be him? and
your real self sings the song.
do you want to free him?
no one to help you get up steam --
and the whirlpool turns you `way off-beam.
later.
i’ve come down from the upper class to mend your rotten ways.
my father was a man-of-power whom everyone obeyed.
so come on all you criminals!
i’ve got to put you straight just like i did with my old man --
twenty years too late.
your bread and water’s going cold.
your hair is too short and neat.
i’ll judge you all and make damn sure that no-one judges me.
you curl your toes in fun as you smile at everyone -- you meet the stares.
you’re unaware that your doings aren’t done.
and you laugh most ruthlessly as you tell us what not to be.
but how are we supposed to see where we should run?
i see you shuffle in the courtroom with
your rings upon your fingers and
your downy little sidies and
your silver-buckle shoes.
playing at the hard case, you follow the example of the comic-paper idol
who lets you bend the rules.
so!
come on ye childhood heroes!
won’t you rise up from the pages of your comic-books
your super crooks
and show us all the way.
well! make your will and testament. won’t you?
join your local government.
we’ll have superman for president
let robin save the day.
you put your bet on number one and it comes up every time.
the other kids have all backed down and they put you first in line.
and so you finally ask yourself just how big you are --
and take your place in a wiser world of bigger motor cars.
and you wonder who to call on.
so! where the hell was biggles when you needed him last saturday?
and where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you though?
they’re all resting down in cornwall --
writing up their memoirs for a paper-back edition
of the boy scout manual.
later.
see there! a man born -- and we pronounce him fit for peace.
there’s a load lifted from his shoulders with the discovery of his disease.
we’ll
take the child from him
put it to the test
teach it
to be a wise man
how to fool the rest.
quote
we will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional
god is an overwhelming responsibility
we walked through the maternity ward and saw 218 babies wearing nylons
cats are on the upgrade
upgrade? hipgrave. oh, mac.
later
in the clear white circles of morning wonder,
i take my place with the lord of the hills.
and the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured (in neat little rows)
sporting canvas frills.
with their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention,
while queueing for sarnies at the office canteen.
saying -- how’s your granny and
good old ernie: he coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win.
the legends (worded in the ancient tribal hymn) lie cradled
in the seagull’s call.
and all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist’s fall.
the poet and the wise man stand behind the gun,
and signal for the crack of dawn.
light the sun.
do you believe in the day? do you?
believe in the day! the dawn creation of the kings has begun.
soft venus (lonely maiden) brings the ageless one.
do you believe in the day?
the fading hero has returned to the night -- and fully pregnant with the day,
wise men endorse the poet’s sight.
do you believe in the day? do you? believe in the day!
let me tell you the tales of your life of
your love and the cut of the knife
the tireless oppression
the wisdom instilled
the desire to kill or be killed.
let me sing of the losers who lie in the street as the last bus goes by.
the pavements ar empty: the gutters run red -- while the fool
toasts his god in the sky.
so come all ye young men who are building castles!
kindly state the time of the year and join your voices in a hellish chorus.
mark the precise nature of your fear.
let me help you pick up your dead as the sins of the father are fed
with
the blood of the fools and
the thoughts of the wise and
from the pan under your bed.
let me make you a present of song as
the wise man breaks wind and is gone while
the fool with the hour-glass is cooking his goose and
the nursery rhyme winds along.
so! come all ye young men who are building castles!
kindly state the time of the year and join your voices in a hellish chorus.
mark the precise nature of your fear.
see! the summer lightning casts its bolts upon you
and the hour of judgement draweth near.
would you be
the fool stood in his suit of armour or
the wiser man who rushes clear.
so! come on ye childhood heroes!
won’t your rise up from the pages of your comic-books
your super-crooks and
show us all the way.
well! make your will and testament.
won’t you? join your local government.
we’ll have superman for president
let robin save the day.
so! where the hell was biggles when you needed him last saturday?
and where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you through?
they’re all resting down in cornwall -- writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition of the boy scout manual.
of course
so you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
hareketli bir jethro tull şarkısı.
oh father high in heaven -- smile down upon your son
he’s busy with his money games -- his women and his gun.
oh jesus save me!
and the unsung western hero, he killed an indian or three
and then he made his name in hollywood
to set the white man free.
oh jesus save me!
if jesus saves -- well, he’d better save himself
from the gory glory seekers who use his name in death.
oh jesus save me!
if jesus saves -- well, he’d better save himself
from the gory glory seekers who use his name in death.
yeah, oh jesus save me!
well i saw him in the city and on the mountains of the moon --
his cross was rather bloody --
he could hardly roll his stone.
oh jesus save me!
oh father high in heaven -- smile down upon your son
he’s busy with his money games -- his women and his gun.
oh jesus save me!
and the unsung western hero, he killed an indian or three
and then he made his name in hollywood
to set the white man free.
oh jesus save me!
if jesus saves -- well, he’d better save himself
from the gory glory seekers who use his name in death.
oh jesus save me!
if jesus saves -- well, he’d better save himself
from the gory glory seekers who use his name in death.
yeah, oh jesus save me!
well i saw him in the city and on the mountains of the moon --
his cross was rather bloody --
he could hardly roll his stone.
oh jesus save me!
mükemmel olarak nitelendirelebilecek bir jethro tull şarkısı.
as i did walk by hampstead fair
i came upon mother goose-
so i turned her loose-
she was screaming.
and a foreign student said to me-
was it really true there are elephants and lions too
in piccadilly circus?
walked down by the bathing pond
to try and catch some sun.
saw at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing
into hankerchiefs as one.
i don’t believe they knew
i was a schoolboy.
and a bearded lady said to me-
if you start your raving and your misbehaving-
you’ll be sorry.
then the chicken-fancier came to play-
with his long red beard and his sister’s weird:
she drives a lorry.
laughed down by the putting green-
i popped `em in their holes.
four and twenty labourers were labouring-
and digging up their gold.
i don’t believe they knew
that i was long john silver.
saw johnny scarecrow make his rounds
in his jet-black mac (which he won’t give back)-
stole it from a snow man.
saw johnny scarecrow make his rounds
in his jet-black mac (which he won’t give back)-
stole it from a snow man.
as i did walk by hampstead fair
i came upon mother goose-
so i turned her loose-
she was screaming.
walked down by the bathing pond
to try and catch some sun.
saw at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing
into hankerchiefs as one.
i don’t believe they knew
i was a schoolboy.
as i did walk by hampstead fair
i came upon mother goose-
so i turned her loose-
she was screaming.
and a foreign student said to me-
was it really true there are elephants and lions too
in piccadilly circus?
walked down by the bathing pond
to try and catch some sun.
saw at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing
into hankerchiefs as one.
i don’t believe they knew
i was a schoolboy.
and a bearded lady said to me-
if you start your raving and your misbehaving-
you’ll be sorry.
then the chicken-fancier came to play-
with his long red beard and his sister’s weird:
she drives a lorry.
laughed down by the putting green-
i popped `em in their holes.
four and twenty labourers were labouring-
and digging up their gold.
i don’t believe they knew
that i was long john silver.
saw johnny scarecrow make his rounds
in his jet-black mac (which he won’t give back)-
stole it from a snow man.
saw johnny scarecrow make his rounds
in his jet-black mac (which he won’t give back)-
stole it from a snow man.
as i did walk by hampstead fair
i came upon mother goose-
so i turned her loose-
she was screaming.
walked down by the bathing pond
to try and catch some sun.
saw at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing
into hankerchiefs as one.
i don’t believe they knew
i was a schoolboy.
bir jethro tull klasiği. özelliklepiyano introsuyla ve ian anderson’un süper vokaliyle müthiş bir şarkı.
in the shuffling madness
of the locomotive breath,
runs the all-time loser,
headlong to his death.
oh, he feels the piston scraping
steam breaking on his brow.
old charlie stole the handle and
the train it won’t stop going
no way to slow down.
he sees his children jumping off
at the stations one by one.
his woman and his best friend
in bed and having fun.
oh, he’s crawling down the corridor
on his hands and knees.
old charlie stole the handle and
the train it won’t stop going
no way to slow down.
he hears the silence howling
catches angels as they fall.
and the all-time winner
has got him by the balls.
he picks up gideons bible
open at page one.
i say god he stole the handle and
the train it won’t stop going
no way to slow down.
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
in the shuffling madness
of the locomotive breath,
runs the all-time loser,
headlong to his death.
oh, he feels the piston scraping
steam breaking on his brow.
old charlie stole the handle and
the train it won’t stop going
no way to slow down.
he sees his children jumping off
at the stations one by one.
his woman and his best friend
in bed and having fun.
oh, he’s crawling down the corridor
on his hands and knees.
old charlie stole the handle and
the train it won’t stop going
no way to slow down.
he hears the silence howling
catches angels as they fall.
and the all-time winner
has got him by the balls.
he picks up gideons bible
open at page one.
i say god he stole the handle and
the train it won’t stop going
no way to slow down.
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
no way to slow down
zeki müren’in seslendirdiği çok güzel bir türk sanat müziği eseri. söz ve müzik osman babuşcu’ya ait.
her gün alevlenen bu aşkımızı
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
ne mutlu günler yasadığımızı
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
saçlarını koklar okşar öperdim
şu ömrümüz hep böyle geçse derdim
elini tutunca nasıl titrerdim
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
gercekleri kattik hep hayallere
sevgiler doldurduk boş gönüllere
o güzel anları demem ellere
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
uyunmaz aşk dolu sakin geceler
en güzel duygular ve kelimeler
anlatırdım sana ben neler neler
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
her gün alevlenen bu aşkımızı
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
ne mutlu günler yasadığımızı
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
saçlarını koklar okşar öperdim
şu ömrümüz hep böyle geçse derdim
elini tutunca nasıl titrerdim
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
gercekleri kattik hep hayallere
sevgiler doldurduk boş gönüllere
o güzel anları demem ellere
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
uyunmaz aşk dolu sakin geceler
en güzel duygular ve kelimeler
anlatırdım sana ben neler neler
bir sen bir ben bir allah bilir
zeki müren’in 1988 çıkışlı "ayrıldık işte" albümünden çok güzel bir şarkı. çocukluğumun şarkılarından biridir...
mevsimlerden ilkbaharken
gönüllere aşk dolarken
sevenler hep eş ararken
neden benden kaçıverdin
seni sordum yıldızlara
seni sordum yalnızlara
seni sordum kuşlara
uçan kuşlara
hani beni seviyordun
yalniz benle gülüyordun
yokluğumda özlüyordun
neden benden bıkıverdin
leylaklarla açıyordun
mutluluklar saçıyordun
seni sevdim biliyordun
neden bana küsüverdin
ismini hep anar oldum
hiç dinmeyen acı duydum
gidişinle harap oldum
neden benden kaçıverdin
mevsimlerden ilkbaharken
gönüllere aşk dolarken
sevenler hep eş ararken
neden benden kaçıverdin
seni sordum yıldızlara
seni sordum yalnızlara
seni sordum kuşlara
uçan kuşlara
hani beni seviyordun
yalniz benle gülüyordun
yokluğumda özlüyordun
neden benden bıkıverdin
leylaklarla açıyordun
mutluluklar saçıyordun
seni sevdim biliyordun
neden bana küsüverdin
ismini hep anar oldum
hiç dinmeyen acı duydum
gidişinle harap oldum
neden benden kaçıverdin
zeki müren’in 1988 çıkışlı "ayrıldık işte" isimli albümünde yer alan damar bir şarkı. güfte salih korkmaz, güfte alaaddin şensoy’a ait.
ağlamışım, gülmüşüm, kırılıp dökülmüşüm
aşkın için ölmüşüm, senin umurunda mı?
deryalara dalmışım, el açıp yalvarmışım
günlerce aglamışım, senin umurunda mı?
yolunu beklemişim, gönülden ozlemişim
sevilmeden sevmişim, senin umurunda mı?
deli diyorlar bana, ağlarım yana yana
esir olmusum sana, senin umurunda mı?
ağlamışım, gülmüşüm, kırılıp dökülmüşüm
aşkın için ölmüşüm, senin umurunda mı?
deryalara dalmışım, el açıp yalvarmışım
günlerce aglamışım, senin umurunda mı?
yolunu beklemişim, gönülden ozlemişim
sevilmeden sevmişim, senin umurunda mı?
deli diyorlar bana, ağlarım yana yana
esir olmusum sana, senin umurunda mı?
(bkz: eski açık 6 desene)
benim adım. hayatım boyunca üstünde taşımaktan "onur" duyacağım adım...
kimler var butonuna basıldığında çömez olarak gözüken yazar adayı. hoşgeldin...
latince’de özel isimler 3. çekim isim çekimi grubuna girer. onur ismi de bu gruptadır. "onuris", onur’un genitif halidir.
nom. onur
gen. onuris
dat. onuri
acc. onurem
abl. onure
voc. onur!
nom. onur
gen. onuris
dat. onuri
acc. onurem
abl. onure
voc. onur!
(bkz: al sazını sen sevdiceğim)
neden bekliyorsun?
bu sözlük, duygu ve düşüncelerini özgürce paylaştığın bir platform, hislerini tercüme eden özgür bilgi kaynağıdır.
katkıda bulunmak istemez misin?