Mr. Prime Minister According to you I’m dead right now and maybe i don’t have any power. But there is one thing that you don’t know. In history, honorable deaths are eternalised in positively infinite. There is another thing that you don’t know also Mr. Prime Minister. There are living deads imbedded in history; those […]
Mr. Prime Minister
According to you I’m dead right now and maybe i don’t have any power. But there is one thing that you don’t know. In history, honorable deaths are eternalised in positively infinite. There is another thing that you don’t know also Mr. Prime Minister. There are living deads imbedded in history; those are the main ones: losers of conscience, opt ermined against honorableness, be on the fiddle, oppressives, with defamatorily masquerade as victim, by this way get a hand and even though claque for liars…
Now, you taking us for dead. So do you know who we are? We are resisters who is only numbers for you We were three saplings and lives four our families: Abdullah, Ethem, Mehmet… But for you, we were three marauders…How did we die? We were murdered by those people who adore you, like journalist Yiğit Bulut and others that you proud and support of them and their sentences like ‘’Sure police can invade Taksim and sure police can break your heads!‘’
If you have conscience, tonight we would like to be guest to you when you close your eyes… We would like you to look our devoid of ink eyes… Mr. Prime Minister, as you said you came with wearing your cerecloth, we would like to be your guest with our cerecloths and our dead, cold bodies… We ‘re practically the same age with your children. If you wish, you can call them, we can’t hurt you, we are dead. If you wish, you can tell about ‘who wrote our killer’s rescript? ‘ to us and them…
They say ‘the grief of losing a child is most difficult grief’… Indeed it is. How do we know? We know this from stopped time for our mothers, we know this from our mother’s bloody tears… God forbid you to live the grief of losing a child Mr. Prime Minister!
May well be, your harsh words about us as regard as an enemy are endless. Mr. Prime Minister; if you can take a step if only to be good person, you will sleep with a clear conscience at nights… Mr. Prime Minister, right now, you are in such a place that, it smells blood, hatred , cruelty when looking from underworld … Even you didn’t say ‘one good sentence’ for days. You didn’t say one, only one good sentence about humanity, life, kindness, love for days.
Mr. Prime Minister; cruelty corrodes) human… According to what we have heard, you offer plebiscite for trees. Mr. Prime Minister; if you offer plebiscite for our lives too, maybe we would alive now. Our bodies wouldn’t be cold and our skins wouldn’t be purple by deterioration. Now that you didn’t make plebiscite for our lives, Mr. Prime Minister, don’t come our underworld without receive our mother’s blessings… We are not sure about you can ‘receive’ blessings from mother’s whose children you killed.
Sure you know better than us. Because, as you said, you are the chosen Prime Minister with fifty percent’s vote for you. You never make a mistake. You command and your orders will be obeyed. People who don’t obey your orders will be punished. Mr. Prime Minister; person can deceive everybody but himself. Tonight, welcome us as guest. We will come with our white cerecloths. But to know, even you hug us with anger, we won’t hate you.
We will take police officer with us that you insistently claim our resister friends killed him when we are coming. Explanation of his family, he died by falling but despite this reality, you don’t want to believe it like what happened in Dolmabahçe Mosque.
Mr. Prime Minister; we will come together with him. Just to spite you and your hate speeches, we will come hand in hand and after all and even we are dead, we will say: ‘come and join hands!’. We will come tonight hoping you to say ‘’Trees will live for you kids! I couldn’t understand you but there won’t be another death! Trees will live for you kids!’’ We will come with purity of good person, enthusiasm of youngness and love.
Do you welcome us Mr. Prime Minister? If you don’t, history will eternize you too like us. We will be eternalized in positively infinite and your name will be with cruel names. Do you welcome us Mr. Prime Minister? If you do, when the night comes your conscience will let you know that we came…
Translation: Cemile Ağzıpak