Mehmedim sınırda bekler Vatanı,
Bırakır arkada oğlan kızanı,
Mehmedin geride kalır dulları,
Devletime Milletime emanet.



İçerler genç yaşta hep şehadeti,
Mehmet can verir de vermez Devleti,
Vatan sağ olsun der Şehit dedesi,
Mehmedin yavrusu bize emanet.



Yaş akıyor gözden yetim yavrular,
Utanmadan hain yüzler alkışlar,
Girmiş Meclisime bir de mel’unlar,
Şehidin canları bize emanet.



Görmedi babasın Mehmet can verdi,
Hain kurşunlara göğsünü gerdi,
Elinden Resulün şehadet içti,
Mehmedin kanları bize emanet.



Gariptir Mehmetler evler virane,
Yoktur sofrasında katığı nerde,
Bırakır geride bir yaslı anne,
Şehidin annesi bize emanet.



Soğuk gecelerde titrer elleri,
Ne yapar ne ider genç gelinleri,
Pencereden bakar şol bebekleri,
Mehmedin bebeği bize emanet.



Bayram seyran demez koşar mezara,
Alınca karneyi doğru babaya,
Ne olaydı derler babam sağ olsa,
Şehidin evladı bize emanet.



Hüdayi Mehmetler candır Vatana,
Lanet olsun bu Devleti satana,
Rahmet olsun yer altında yatana,
Mehmedin mezarı bize emanet.

10.02.2021//KIRIKKALE
HİDAYET DOĞAN

.......................................

Martyrs entrust us ..

Mehmedim waits at the border, his homeland,
The boy leaves the anger behind,
Mehmed’s widows stay behind,
I entrust my state to my nation.

They always bear martyrdom at a young age,
Mehmet dies but does not give the State,
The martyr grandfather says,
Mehmed’s cub is entrusted to us.

Tears are falling from sight, orphans,
The treacherous faces applaud without shame,
And the males who have entered my Assembly,
The lives of the martyrs are entrusted to us.

Your father, Mehmet did not see, died,
He stretched his chest at the treacherous bullets,
The Messenger of Allah martyred from his hand,
Mehmed’s blood is entrusted to us.

It is strange that Mehmetler houses are in ruins,
Where is the additive on your table,
An old mother leaves behind,
The martyr’s mother is entrusted to us.

His hands tremble in cold nights,
Neither does nor ider young brides,
Looking out the window the boys,
Mehmed’s baby is entrusted to us.

He doesn’t say Bayram Seyran, runs to the grave,
When you get the report card to the right father,
They say what happened, if my father was alive,
The martyr’s son is entrusted to us.

Hüdayi Mehmets are souls to Motherland,
Damn the one who sold this State,
Mercy to the one lying under the ground,
Mehmed’s tomb is entrusted to us.

10.02.2021 // KIRIKKALE
HİDAYET DOĞAN