Atatürk İle İlgili Kısa İngilizce Şiirler


Atatürk Kısa İngilizce Şiirler

Ülkemizin kurucusu olan Mustafa Kemal Atatürk ile ilgili yazılmış birbirinden güzel kısa İngilizce şiirlere sayfamızdan okuyabilirsiniz.

The Tenth Of November

Nineteen thirty-eight, november tenth, a Thursday,
In autumn never to fade from memory,
Shocking Istanbul’s seven hills of the city,
A cruel wind from Dolmabahçe came sweeping.
Unreal, no more than a dream to gainsay,
That five minutes past nine Atatürk passed away,
Never such multitudes mourning as today,
With all creatures alive we are weeping,
He, most of all, had served this nation,
With a love that had power to move a mountain,
Borne now on the shoulders of the population,
Our father, on Ankara’s slopes forever sleeping.


That Endless Race

The hero set foot in Samsun today,
Meadows and pastures turned green on the path of victory.
Feasting starts to the sound of drums and flutes,
My heart jumps and sings on a branch of spring.

Offer poppies to the dream of Ataturk,
Lovely roses from the garden of labour.
We are in an endless morning … let him sleep,
Our joy makes his heart rejoice.

That song of victory set out from Samsun
Like a plough, from mountain to mountain,
Rearing up it raised the flag to the old post,
A fresh spring opened the eyes of the nation.

My red flag waves free in Ankara Castle,
Waving towards a golden age,
New heroes walk arm in arm
To the flag on those snowy mountains.

A garland for the free leader of May 19,
The season of cherries, the month of youth and roses.
Hearts are **** of colour in a spring garden,
Look at that endless race all over the meadows.

Ceyhun Atıf KANSU


If they ask who it is
Who stretches his arms over us night and day,
Who shows us the loveliest of days,
Who breathes new life into the Turkish nation,
It is Ataturk.

Whatever meets the eye,
The dawns that illuminate our country,
The weapons that terrify our enemies,
The shipyards, factories and merchants’ counters,
It is Ataturk.

Wherever one looks,
He appears divine in all places,
On the land, in the sea, in the sky,
The heart worships and is transported with joy,
It is Ataturk.

Turkish women teach their sons his name
Before those of their own fathers.
He taught us to take pleasure in living.
We are happy if he is happy.
It is Ataturk.

Faruk Nafız ÇAMLIBEL


In the beginning I spoke the name of Ataturk
And did up my buttons.

How shall I say he is dead?
My Ataturk is before me,
He lies asleep in the snow,
His fur cap on his head.

How shall I say he is dead?
My Ataturk walks to Kocatepe,
Lost in though, musing,
His hand on his chin.

How shall I say he is dead?
My Ataturk is teaching At the blackboard,
White chalk in his hand.
How shall I say he is dead?

He has set out,
He is walking among the crowds,
His new hat on his head.

How shall I say he is dead?How?
A ray of light has struck his face,
My Ataturk is looking on.
Let us make ourselves presentable.