I found it in the cellar of a caravanserai
Under a copper lamp,
An ancient handwritten manuscript of the Isagoge,
Perhaps dating from the Seljuk Empire,
Wine stains on every page.
I don’t know whether it was the author or a reader,
But right at the end, in a secret place,
He added these frightentng words:
The sky is our brain’s membrane,
Birds and clouds wander around in it.
A Winter Night by Oktay Rıfat
A winter night
Came to my room
And sat crosslegged on the sofa
Drank my coffee
Looked at the fire in the stove
Then went as it came.
translatged by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
The Law-Court by Oktay Rıfat
For their stony fields and pastures
They are crammed into the law-court
Crumbs of bread and tobacco in their pockets
In their wallets lists of witnesses
Thumbprint signatures proof of transactions
Their women and donkeys
Wait in the market-place
The courtroom is dingy it stinks of dung
But on the judge’s robe
The ribbons shine with propriety
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
Bar by Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar
A Rose
offers itself
a coral wine glass
in
the bars
of time
***sorry but could not find the name of the translator
untitled poem by Ahmet Haşim
A river of fire
between your soul and mine
mine unburdened itself
of this love’s impossible wound
As this glitter reflected on her
I ran away from that look, that lip
I looked at her silently, from far,
as this river reflected on her . . .
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
Folk Songs by Oktay Rıfat
He loved the homesick songs of exile most
Played in ramshackle buses
On the tarmac road through mountain passes
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
Remembering Ahmet Haşım by Oktay Rıfat
The sun in mist;
A wild duck fallen from a cloud
Maybe a young great-crested grebe,
On its back a fine blood streak, perhaps
The color of water, perhaps of loneliness,
Head drooping, wet, it floats. A few feathers
Left in the silence, something like evening.
Shore and sky, twinned one under the other.
It struck water, turbid, unclear,
The rickety quay, remnants here and there,
Lake-birds hanging their heads in thought.
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
Swallow by Oktay Rıfat
A telegraph pole
Reminds me of a swallow
A swallow of a journey
Although a swallow once used to
Make me think of home
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
Bread and Stars by Oktay Rıfat
Bread on my knee
Stars in the distance far in the distance
I’m eating bread and looking at the stars
I’m so intensely lost in thought
That by mistake I eat
A star instead of bread
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
Stars by Oktay Rıfat
A notebook by the book
A glass by the notebook
A child by the glass
A cat by the child
And stars stars in the distance
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
