I write this poem
In thunder, in the light of lightning
Like a cinema
I visualize the past
I enter the time tunnel
To go to my childhood
I fly to those chirpy years
Like birds
I become a lazy and mischievous boy
I fidget; I clutter the area here and there
When I am hungry
I eat bread with butter, bit by bit
My clothes are in mud, black gumshoes on my feet
I make a drum from a tin, a horn from the pipes
I play and dance
I make a donkey from a pumpkin
I make a horse from a hazelnut sprig
I run when I say “Deh”
I stop when I say “Duş”
I become Tarzan and I jump from one branch to another
If I can find the past days
If I can fetch them, I swear
I will put them in dungeons
I will never let them go