from A Man by Attila İlhan

I am a man
another man
a vagabond
who dumped his youth headlong into the streets
and tossed away his hopes like pigeons
lost them time and time again
lost them in the graveyard of ships
in his cruel poems and songs
found them time and time again
then he dragged the dawn’s shrieks by the hair
there goes the sea and there goes he
there goes the cloud and there goes he
a man
a different man
a vagabond

translated by Talat S. Halman

untitled poem by Jahan Malek Khatun

Your face usurps the fiery glow and hue
of roses;
And with your face here, what have I to do
with roses?

Your ringlets’ fragrance is so sweet, my friend,
No fragrant rose-scent could entice me to
seek roses–

Besides, the faithless roses’ scent will fade,
Which is a serious drawback, in my view
of roses;

And if the waters of eternal life
Had touched their roots, so that they bloomed anew,
these roses,

When could they ever form a bud as sweet
As your small mouth, which is more trim and true
than roses?

translated by Dick Davis