Have you ever sat or thought upon
that furniture called the ottoman;
or do I wonder all alone
why they had an empire of their own?
Unwary doesn't know happiness coming from sounds at the warzone
And various pleasures at the arena of courage and valor
When brave warriors say the word of testament with passion
Ground of earth trembled again sky and the throne
Let's fight in the way of Allah and take fame and glory
At the Quran Almighty Lord promises victory
Creator of universe made it obligatory to fight in his way
All rising name of my ancestors for the sake of Allah by war
Whom conquered the worlds is our ancestors it's right
They were all fair and protected the prayer to noble God
Let's fight in the way of Allah and take fame and glory
At the Quran Almighty Lord promises victory
Written by Gazi Ahmet Muhtar Pasha
Translation Onur Ünlü
Dusty musty air hit me as I open the attic door. Turning on small torch, I pause whilst my eyes gently get acclimatised to the dim light. Brushing away the long cobwebs which hang from the low ceiling, I cautiously make my way to the back of the attic. In a dark corner I find Granny’s old ottoman, its pink damask silk top is now worn and faded. Carefully I begin to raise the lid, its hinges creak like granny’s arthritic knees. I gently lift out her silk wedding dress which, as a child, I’d help granny wrap in layers of crinkly tissue paper. She had always promised I will wear it one day, and as she’s a gifted seamstress I know it will fit perfectly on my June wedding day.
family heirloom
I’ll wear on my wedding day
precious memories
Up the mountain
The forest hides a fountain
Escape the summer madness,
In cool shade
Ice cold water
Glides through my fingers
Senses awake
A gushing melody Under Ottoman shapes
There's light on the surface
Even oppressors
Leave relics to impress us
This oasis of calmness sedates
Beneath my legs bridging from chair to ottoman
two little dogs tread in the tunnel my furniture
and legs make
Tails high go the passerby tickling my exposed shins
Waking from the brushing I stretch in my chair
and lift my feet from the ottoman
Two little dogs sit and stare as if I were sitting in their chair
Silly boys I yawn and ease back to slumber
legs stretched out and feet embedded in umber
shade of ottoman softness
I awaken again from tickled shins as two little dogs
scurry back and forth from hence to whence
bushy tails blushing my shins forcing a grin
I relinquish my prize
Sitting up with feet down
Two little dogs nestle in the comfort
of the soft old ottoman.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.