Tracks

On the path of freedom

I walked, somewhat weary, somewhat restless
Through a thorny, rugged, stony field;
Ahead, an uphill, all gravel, all thorn,
I walked, yet obstinate, patient.

This road resembled a solemn pulpit:
On the sides, a loving tomb,
Its atmosphere embraced by a red sun...
With reassured steps, I passed
Through the field which was recently traversed, troubled;
My path remained the same; all gravel, all thorn;
I walked, yet reassured, dignified,
Passing over some tracks I left behind;
I bent down, paid attention to the ground!
Those tracks were mine, they were always mine.

Tevfik Fikret

Translated by: Mehmet Barın Erturan
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