History is crucified in a half burnt stage directly in front of open eyes; Neruda’s poem is lying near the dead bodies of children, and a young girl is standing like a black shadow resisting the suppression of the voice and sight of the young generation. The lines on the palms have been question marked. These things happen in front of people belonging to all generations.
What is the truth of poetry? In other words, what is poetry itself? A subject which is discussed a lot is not a new theme. In fact all societies and intellectuals have their own thoughts on this issue. Intellectuals of our contemporary period feel that poetry should talk about the realities of society, reality means the rawness and the cruelty we see around us. At the same time a large number of people still enjoy poetry in lyric, appreciate beauty and imagination in filmy style. I sometimes wonder — the critic says that poetry should be of people related to the earth, but the earth belongs to so many other creatures, like earthworms, worms, snakes, lizards, spiders and so on. Romantic poetry was poetry that devoted itself to the beautiful things around us – the romantic poets talked a lot about flowers, butterflies, clouds, mountains and the innumerable things in nature that stirred the sense of beauty in human beings and inspired them to appreciate the wonderful creations of this world. Truly speaking, poetry has in the real sense ignored those who are close to the earth. In our selfishness, we think for ourselves, only for ourselves; with this state of mind, how can we think for or about others who are closer to the earth than we?
I keep open this question for the readers,
I want to bring this issue for hope for the world without wall.