I have a turkish friend...and last time we talk he seemed depressed...he didnt told me anything..just send me the following script....Im a little worried ciz I dont knoe turkish
Please someone help me translate the following. thanks a lot.

SUSUYORUM....

Ne keyifle okuduğum şiirler ezberimde, ne de bağıra çağıra söylediğim şarkıların sözleri. Dalgın gözlerle yürüdüğüm caddelerde kayboluyorum.

Sonsuz bir inatla sarıldığım radyodan gelen o harika melodilerin de tadı yok? Peki ya o yağmurda iliklerime kadar ıslanmalarımı kim çaldı benden? Bilmiyorum! Susuyorum artık... Sustukça susuyorum. Sustukça, üzerime gelen insanlardan kurtarmak için ruhumu, suskunluğuma sarılıyorum. Ama yine de saplanıyor yüreğime bazı kelimeler. Bazıları da acıtıyor üstelik…

Sessiz geceler benim için sığınılan bir liman sanki. Kendimi bulup bulup kaybettiğim karanlıkta, şÃ¶yle bir uğradığım kelime hazinem de bir anlam ifade etmiyor. DüşÃ¼nüyorum da bu güne kadar hep; gibi olmuşum, gibi okumuşum, gibi söylemişim ve en önemlisi; gibi yaşamışım...

Elbette hiçbir şey, ben ol deyince olmaz. Bunu biliyorum ama zaman da geçiyor hızla. Tükenmez sandığım bütün sözler bitiyor ve ben de yavaş yavaş tükeniyorum... Onca yıldan sonra; hayata dair ne kaldı ki elimde? Kocaman bir hiç! Öyleyse neden bunca çaba, neye bunca isyan…

Öyle anlamsızki yaşadığım hayat. Her şey az sonra gerçekleşecekmiş gibi duruyor, elimi uzatıyorum tutmak için, kayboluyor. Benim dışımda kopuyor bütün kıyametler ve ben kendime uyan bir kıyamet beğenmiyorum…

Kalbime bir kurşun sıkacak gönüllü katilimi arıyorum ya da yüreğime su serpecek elin sahibini... Toprağa ateşi düşÃ¼recek, denizi yakamozlarla süsleyecek sesin sahibini… Artık basit şeyler bekliyorum yaşamdan. Örneğin, kimselerin bilmediği sırlarım olmalı ölürken... Kimselerin gitmediği sokaklarım olmalı... İçimi kanatan özlemlerle yaşlanıp, sonra da sessizce gitmeliyim bu dünyadan.

İşte yine susuyorum; siyah bir geceye dönüyor her anım ve okuduğum her şiir kanatıyor yaralarımı. İçimdeki çocuk ölüyor... Yalancı gülümseyişlerle beni ciddiyete çağıran insanları da önemsemiyorum. Elimden kayıp gidenlerden korkmadığımı bilmiyor ki hiç biri…

Just a poetic essay - it doesn't touch on anything personal about you whatsoever.

I s better if somebody here can tranlate this , like u said , it doesnt touch nothing personal , but who knows maybee she can find herself in that story , or figured out why her friend fell bad ...Every story has a message if u reading carefull.

I hope somebody will help u .

regards

I s better if somebody here can tranlate this , like u said , it doesnt touch nothing personal , but who knows maybee she can find herself in that story , or figured out why her friend feel bad ...Every story has a message if u reading carefull.

I hope somebody will help u .

regards

I s better if somebody here can tranlate this , like u said , it doesnt touch nothing personal , but who knows maybee she can find herself in that story , or figured out why her friend feel bad ...Every story has a message if u reading carefull.

I hope somebody will help u .

regards

sorry for this connection problems

Rhanx anyway

heheh spelling mistakes...I meant....thanx anyway

I remain silent....

Nor are the poems in my mind which I liked once neither the words of the song once I used to sing laudly. I get lost in roads when walking with thoughtfull eyes.

There isnt anymore the same taste of listening to the radio which I still insist to do like crazy. And who has stolen the times from me when I used to get so wet from rain? I dont know! I remain silent fro now on... My silenc is al around me. In this silence trying to avoid all the people who come towards me I hide in this wordlessness. But still some words are hitting my hearth. Some of these words are hurting me also.

The silent nights are like a seaport to hide. In this darkness in which I lose and find myself again and again even all my vocabulary doesnt have a meaning anymore. I think so far I have always pretended, pretended to be, pretended like I read, pretended like I said and most of all pretended like I was doing ...

I see nothing is going to happen by only me saying it to happen. I know this but time is passing away very fast. All the words which I thought would never end are comeing to an end closer and closer and I drain away. After all these years what has left of life. A big nothing.

So why all these efford, all these trouble.

My life is so meaningless. Things look like they will become real after a second. I rise my hand to touch them and they dissapear.

All the storms are come from far away and I dont like any of them to be mine.

I`m looking for someone who will shoot a bullet to my heart or who will relive me from all the pain... I`m looking for someone whose voice will bring fire to the eart and seaflowers to the waters.

Now I only expect simple things from life. I should take some secrects with me when I pass away...There should be some roads not taken by others but me... Growing older with this pain which hurts me from inside is what I want and afterwards to pass away in silence.

Once again I stop talking; every moment I live turns into the darkness of the night. Every poem I read hurts my wounds a bit more.
The child inside me is dying... I dont care anymore for those people with a fake smile on their lips, calling me to be serious again. None of them knows that I`m not afraid of losing things I have.

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note from translator: sorry my english isnt yet the best. I have given it a try but I see it could be done much better than I did. I would say this is probably a boy in his early years as a youth. A bid sad, a bid dissapointed he is like many of us have experienced in our lifes at this age and obviously he has written an poetric essay which is also expressing some confusion and mixture of feelings in some parts. From his writing I see he is a good friend of books. Probably he is very young still and needs more time. What can I say more I dont know. Sadness is a like wise man simetimes who can also be a good teacher. But still its a sad thing to be so lonely you know.