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Dokunma Yanarsın [English translation]
Dokunma Yanarsın [English translation]
turnover time:2024-12-27 23:01:27
Dokunma Yanarsın [English translation]

"My childhood was spent working as an apprentice , in dirt and dust

My youth, in illegal marchs, demonstrations

I went to jail early, met the baton early

I am sick and tired of pacing back and forth such a sort distance

Now, in endless meadows,

Without counting my steps,

Without looking back, without getting sick, without getting tired,

Like mad horses, I want to run.

And you see that I am no good at love

Let me alone, my love

I would find my way somehow"

I want to run barefoot in vast meadows

My hair, a guest to the wind; my face turned towards the mountains

The slavery which tests the wallls of my chest with death

And the bravery which forces my heart to the point of being torn

I want them to fight each other to death.

To run... I want to run, my love. I want to run.

If I can't return, forgive me.

I want them to fight, to fight to death.

I want to run, my love. I want to run, to run.

If I can't return, forgive me.

I've become an expert on fugitives,

My wanted posters are in all the stations

Even a child could shoot me.

Don't touch me, you'd get flagged.

Don't touch me, your hands would catch fire.

Don't touch me, you'd go mad.

Don't touch me, you'd burn too.

"I want to run from the side of the car exhausts, the rubble, the pillage,

All this ruthlessness, all this injustice,

From the side of the lack of scenery, the poverty, the godlessness

Without touching anything or anyone

As if destroying my lungs, I want to run.

Whilst some eat, drink, lose themselves in love affairs,

Whilst some flee upon seeing the end of the barrel,

Whilst some die and some preach in newspaper columns,

Without being in any fights, without being arrested,

Without swearing,

As if breaking my head, I want to run.

I want to hold your hand one last time, without crying

My eyes at odds with your face, my guitar silent to your love

I set the clock to separation, there can be no surrender

My half-glued mind is obsessed with you,

On the inside I'm a disaster

I want to catch, to catch some bullets

I want to die, my love, to die, to die.

If I live, forgive me.

I've become an expert on fugitives

On every police radio, my name is read

Even a child could find me

Don't touch me, you'd go mad

Don't touch me, your hands would catch fire

Don't touch me, you'd get flagged

Don't touch me, you'd burn too

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Ahmet Kaya
  • country:Turkey
  • Languages:Turkish, Turkish (Anatolian dialects), Kurdish (Kurmanji)
  • Official site:http://www.ahmetkaya.com/
  • Wiki:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahmet_Kaya
Ahmet Kaya
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