I’m waiting.
Come when the weather is such
That there can be no turning back.
translated by Talat Sait Halman
Uncategorized
my wish
close eyes
wish
open eyes
there you are
again
The Steps Going Down to the Sea by Behçet Aysan
along the tracks of the railway I’d walk
and the gray sky keeping me company
would walk too.
and toward the factories
slow buses heavy and cumbersome
full of workmen
all I knew of life
would walk along too.
blackouts as dead as the night
and enlightened options bright
would walk too
sunflowers tracking the sun
bitter explosions of pain
doors that had been locked
hopes that were supressed
a silence thwarting even the sun
this hell of mine
and love so fine
all of this walked too
Suddenly I realized
I’d arrived.
translated by Sezen Kaya & Jean Carpenter Efe
Foreign Country by Sowol Kim
I turn to look at an iron bridge
I’ve crossed before I realize
I’ve set foot in a foreign land.
translated by Jaihiun Kim & Ronald B. Hatch
another poem untitled by Cemal Süreya
Whenever we threw a smoke into the water
It kept burning til the morning
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
Drizzle by Cemal Süreya
The stars were on the sidewalk
As if at the Prophet’s coming
Because it had drizzled the night before
Dizzy like a cloud, I left her house
Skipping, skipping on the stars
Pleased as punch in the moonlight
Playing hopscotch
As at the Prophet’s coming
Because it had drizzled the night before.
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
untitled poem by Cemal Süreya
Whereas a glass of water was enough to wet your hair,
A slice of bread, two olives to fill our stomachs
If I kissed you once, the second felt itself neglected,
If I kissed you twice, the third bent its neck in sadness. . .
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
Empty Streets by Özdemir İnce
I look at you
and my teeth are set on edge as if I’ve eaten green plums,
dawn’s peacock spreads open its tail.
I look at you
and our glances meet like two brooks,
the voice lilies of the streets blossom.
translated by Talat S. Halman
another translation of a major Turkish poet by Rukiye Uçar on FORGOTTEN HOPES
I talked to myself towards morning, yesterday I was a hill always leading up to myself There was an enemy up on the hill I went to shoot him down; then ended up fighting myself. -Özdemir Asaf (Dün Sabaha Karşı), Translated by Rukiye Uçar…
Cat Was Its Name by Özdemir Asaf
Nobody
gave it a name
They called–it was deaf, it did not hear
The murmuring of a cat
Is both its thinking
And
Its hearing
I’m writing
This
Which is
My murmuring
One who hears
Wouldn’t write this
Wake up
It was a cat who wrote this.
translated by Ayşe Banu Karadağ
Leonard Durso 