TO A TRAVELLER
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Stop wayfarer! Unbeknownst to you this ground
You come and tread on, is where an epoch lies;
Bend down and lend your ear, for this silent mound
Is the place where the heart of a nation sighs.

To the left of this deserted shadeless lane
The Anatolian slope now observe you well;
For liberty and honor, it is, in pain,
Where wounded Mehmet laid down his life and fell

This very mound, when violently shook the land,
When the last bit of earth passed from hand to hand,
And when Mehmet drowned the enemy in flood,
Is the spot where he added his own pure blood.

Think ,the consecrated blood and flesh and bone
That make up this mould, is where is where a whole nation,
After a harsh and pitiless war; alone
Tasted the joyce of freedom with elation.

Necmettin Halil Onan

Translated by: S. Tanvir Wasti

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