The beautiful women thought
The love poems I wrote
Were about them.
And I always suffered
Knowing that I wrote them
To keep busy.

translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat

Everything happened all of a sudden.
All of a sudden daylight beat down on the earth;
There was the sky all of a sudden;
All of a sudden steam began to rise from the soil.
There were tendrils all of a sudden, buds all of a sudden.
And there were fruits all of a sudden.
All of a sudden,
All of a sudden,
Girls all of a sudden, boys all of a sudden.
Roads, moors, cats, people. . .
And there was love all of a sudden,
Happiness all of a sudden.

translated  by Anil Mericelli

 

 

To dream of the sea
Even when looking at the sea
This is what he has long been doing
And imagining he is in a city
With trams along its streets
On yellow cut-stone edifices
Darkening iron balconies
The sound of pigeons
Pigeon droppings on the windows
But these are dreams
Neither opposite him nor
Anywhere

translated by Suat Karantay

he sits
intently listening
the call of the wild
feral cats
crying for food
attention
envying him
his comfort
from the storms
the cold
the night
and he
wondering
what he’s lost
of his nature
to live
beholding
to no man
just his own wits
himself
and I
understanding
both

at times comes someone
settles down into my heart
surrounding my whole body
the iron protecting me melts

utters words I’ve never heard
telling me about myself
whisks me far away
upsetting my world

no, this is not the only thing I want to explain
this is someone else or you perhaps
but in the end I understand
I am the traveler of myself

translated by Pınar Besen

The old fisherman spends his night beneath the western cliffs.
At dawn, he boils Hsiang’s waters, burns bamboo of Ch’u.
When the mist’s burned off, and the sun’s come out, he’s gone.
The slap of the oars: the mountain waters green.
Turn and look, at heaven’s edge, he’s moving with the flow.
Above the cliffs, the aimless clouds go too.

translated by J.P. Seaton

Flourish and ruin keep leaving each other,
but no-mind stays, dark-enigma’s fruition.

The bloom of youth scatters steadily away
and grandeur crumbles to its tranquil end,

but mountain streams continue here in this
green pine you brought to this courtyard,

deep snows showing off its radiant beauty
and cold blossoms its kingfisher-greens.

At dawn, even a pure recluse must yearn:
now, I just invite clear wind for company.

translated by David Hinton

Stay here. In the noon courtyard.

Settle down at the simple language of time.

Take an interest in horizon-watching.

Experiment with the blue, the white, and the day.

Appreciate the oleander! Surprise me
by murmuring “It’s poison is the ointment
I apply to my skin.”

Try to translate
those feverish insects of August
and their sweaty songs into Turkish.

Learn the rather rich
styles of
washing the courtyard, pruning the vine,
walking barefoot.

Stay here. With the enduring time.
In the noon courtyard.

Absolve from your body. Strip
until you are your own self.

Pour refreshing water over your head.

Sleep soundly.

translated by Suat Karantay

jumpstart
my day
enrich
a conversation
stimulate
the night
anytime
all the time
my version
of Turkish Delight