His Poetry Collections
- Artık Kuşlarını Uçur (Now Let Your Birds Fly)
- Hayâl Defteri (Notebook for Dreams)
- Son Günün Şiiri (The Poem of the Last Day)
- Nisan Çobanı (Shepherd of April)
- Ateşte Yıkanmış Atlar (Horses Washed up in Fire)
- Şiir Taşı (Poetry Stone)
- Devamsızlar İçin (For Absentees)
- Borges Borges/Gün doğarken Gün Batımı (Sunset When Sunrise).
In the name of the fried pomegranate
In the name of the blessed armies
Shouldering the city all the time!
In the name of leaves going yellow and comfy graves!
Give me my sword, it is going to be ready to burst with anger
Give me my sword for a last stroke!
By this way, the ones who took on my burden
They assume my color, while crossing the bridges
They would cut and run when they see the abyss
They would go to drink cinnamon with great eagerness
And to fly doves, to stone skimming
Or to put out the fire with ice
All day long.
Now, with wind out of nowhere, my head
Now, with a world growing inside me, my voice
Should I say one hundred years, or an apple, or africa?
Should I say in the name of the lambs that pass across the town?
O autumn for me, in the name of the weeping clouds!
O passing days for me, in the name of the fried pomegranate!
Before death knocks at the door
Take me to all slopes of the world...