Farewell

Farewell - Necip YILDIRIM
Farewell - Necip YILDIRIM

By Necip YILDIRIM

I am leaving: Taking with me all I left, leaving myself behind.

As mentioned in an old Chinese script: Privilege might seem in the shape yet the advantage resides in the empty space. It is not the walls that make a place home, we live in the emptiness those walls embrace. Not the clay-made body of a cup; but the emptiness surrounded by the ornamented clay holds the pleasant water.

If the bell around the neck of a camel was not filled with emptiness, could it ring and lament “I am leaving”?

I take away the emptiness that I once embraced.

Look: I am here and now leaving. Knowing that I cannot return; like the tears to the eyes, the smell to the rose, and the sigh to the chest. I will walk to the cheeks knowing I will dry to death.

Can you read the words I will engrave? Or can you pick out the fragrance and the sound?

I will hide all words. Like the tears hidden in eyes at the moments of separation. I will not speak much. Exist meanings that can be clothed by no words.

Noticed? When the fate grasps a jug by the neck and bends it forward, it sobs to bid farewell to the fullness.  

Sigh owes its existence to a burning heart and rose owes its life to the death of a rosebud. You worry not though: I am aware that they celebrate the death of rosebud as the rose. Just as they appreciate the end of the youth as “the experience”.

Every goodbye is an adieu to the funeral of memories. A farewell is the rose that smells separation, this is why it is sorrowful.

Why you did not leave this long? I was afraid: A thorn departed from its rose might not survive long. I know, it was me who said “If you ever leave, do it without further notice. Do not pass by me: The blow pokes up the fire”.

Cheer up…

Goodbye to rosebud is to welcome the rose: Could we embrace life unless we had said farewell to our mother’s womb? Or can we embrace eternity unless we bid farewell to the rosebud of life?

Look how blossoms tear apart their chests and extend their hands to touch the spring breeze for a final time. 

What is to leave or to stay? Was our connection ever related to space or time?


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