My name is troubled sheep

In yesterday's article, I wrote examples of proverbs about troubles. Today, I can give examples from our idioms, curses, and rhymes:

“ To be troubled ”, “To be a cure for trouble”, “To open your troubles ”, “To bear your troubles”, “ The trouble is mine, is the worry yours ?”, “To take trouble”, “To confide in someone ”, “To be troubled”, “To be troubled on the day of your troubles ”, “To pour out your troubles”, “ To tell your troubles to Marko Pasha ”, “To get into trouble without worry”, “ Not a trouble ”, “The mother of trouble – the father of trouble”, “ Trouble on top of trouble .”

There is a problem in many of our curses, or imprecations:

"God gives a cure to those who give trouble."

“May you fall into incurable trouble.”

“Don’t worry.”

“May you suffer so that you don't die.”

"You should return to your old trouble. First you found a cure; now you can't."

There is both curse and applause in this verse:

“Ride a donkey and see no horses, / Lick bones and see no meat, / Let him catch malaria for seven years, / See no other trouble.”

Folk songs constitute one of the most widespread genres of our oral folk literature. These folk songs, which deal with troubles, are often composed of poems about love, longing, and the inability to attain reunion.

We can give examples:

“Isn’t parsley a herb? Doesn’t it have four leaves? My beloved has left me. Doesn’t that cause me trouble?

“White sheep, black sheep, / Dig my grave deep, / If I die of this trouble, / Name my troubled sheep.”

“The black tent does not soot, / The noble martin does not rust, / If I die of this trouble, / The hand's daughter will not mourn.”

“I wander around with troubles, / I unravel a bundle of troubles. / If I were to get the fortune, / I would skin it.”

Let's wander around the valley of folk songs for a while, sadly:

As mentioned in Fuzuli's ghazal mentioned at the beginning of this article, the most beautiful sorrow is the sorrow of love. Love's sorrow is something to be ecstatic about. A folk song compiled by Arif Meşhur from Murtaza Kurt in the village of Çakırcalı, Zile district of Tokat, beautifully describes it:

I am crazy about your troubles, believe me.

How wickedly your eyes look

Doesn't the one who gives the pain give the cure?

Your eyes have become watery and watery.

Sometimes Hurrem was happy, sometimes this heart was sad

You laugh and play, my troubles are always with me

You have the sign of the Zohre star

I'm afraid your eyes will burn the world

The fringed affliction that sent Karacaoğlan abroad was, of course, a love affair. He says:

“Oh Karacaoğlan, oh I am overwhelmed,

I was left confused in the deserts of love,

I took on a troubled head,

This raging trouble has driven me into exile…

In various laments, hymns, broken air songs, and long airs, troubles and sorrows are frequently mentioned:

In a Kastamonu folk song by İhsan Ozanoğlu, it is hoped that the nightingale's voice will bring relief to troubles during the spring festival:

“Oh my nightingale, what do you sing?

You bring cure to troubles

Summer comes, winter goes

The nightingale sings sorrowfully

The nightingale is the festival of spring…”

In the folk song taken from Âşık Veysel, the nightingale, far from being a cure for the trouble, is trying to add to the trouble:

"What are you singing so sadly?

I can't stand the harm, nightingale

I am both troubled and upset

Don't burn me, nightingale

Nightingale singing, nightingale singing

Don't add trouble to trouble, nightingale

My troubles are enough for me

Don't add any more trouble to your life, nightingale..."

The Kırşehir folk song, compiled from Neşet Ertaş, was sung by a grieving mother, thinking of her children who will be orphaned:

"Oh, how narrow the world is

How hard it is to suffer

There is a wound inside me

I've been searching for the cure

I became a sad and sorrowful wanderer

I became a writer of my troubles

I'm carrying this problem with me

I'm also fed up with my life

....”

There is a folk song compiled by İhsan Öztürk from Nesimi Çimen in the Tunceli region:

“I have tied the frames like a nightingale / What are the remedies for the pain of separation / Wounds on the tongue do not accept the ointment / Is there any news from my beloved in the morning breeze?

Laments are poems and melodies sung about disasters. In the past, the Turks called them "yuğ." They were recited and lamented at mourning gatherings in the homes of the deceased, to commemorate the good deeds of the deceased and the pain felt at their death. Laments were not only the painful poems sung during the death of a person, but also during fires, floods, earthquakes, wars, and similar disasters.