After eating lunch, I feel so sleepy.
Waking later, I sip two bowls of rice,
then notice shadows aslant, the sun
already low in the southwest again.
Joyful people resent fleeting days.
Sad ones can’t bear the slow years.
It’s those with no joy and no sorrow—
they trust whatever this life brings.
translated by David Hinton
from Drinking Wine: 1 by T’ao Ch’ien
Way’s been ruins a thousand years.
People all hoard their hearts away:
so busy scrambling after esteemed
position, they’d never touch wine.
But whatever makes living precious
occurs in this one life, and this life
never lasts. It’s startling, sudden as
lightning, a hundred years offering
all abundance. Take it! What more
could you hope to make of yourself?
translated by David Hinton
Every Woman Knows Her Own Tree by Bejan Matur
When I came to you
I meant to unfurl my wings
Over that lifeless city
Built of black stone,
To perch on the branch of a tree I found
And call out in pain.
Every woman knows her own tree.
That night I flew.
I passed the city where darkness was afraid to go.
When shadowless, the soul was alone. I howled.
translated by George Messo
away now
there’s cereal floating
in the bowl
coffee cooling
in the cup
a letter unfinished
on the screen
and my thoughts tumbling
in my mind
so far away
away now
from where I used to be
Sand by Gülten Akın
I had a lover
Who sent sand from the city where he lived
And yet it was the wind there I always wondered about
Was it tame wild incessant?
Did it suddenly appear hurling in the sky
What it took from the ground?
Later there were cities we shared
The wind a master but me untrained
It blew, raging, came and went
Sand filled my eyes
translated by George Messo
Photograph by Cemal Süreya
Three persons at the bus stop
Man woman and child
His hands in his pockets
She holds the child’s hand
He is sad
As sad as sad songs
She is beautiful
As beautiful as beautiful memories
The child
As sad as beautiful memories
As beautiful as sad songs
translated by Omer Kursat
The Smile of Love by Leyla Şahin
so here I am, coming to you
find for me a place on wings of soft winds
let water’s sparkling sounds flow beside us,
let laurels entwine our flanks . . .
let me wake on mornings in the softness of your iron arms
as a seed grows in the eyes of an olive tree
let me be yours
let the scent of the gum tree infuse our hair
let our living body walk towards birds
and find forgotten songs . . .
your smile is the branches of a flowering almond tree
let it snatch death from our hands.
I brought a ship to your door: let’s go together.
you were made for women of sensitive, long nights,
for long mornings
for fields of wheat, placid deer, for open roads . . .
drop me on your chest: let me listen to songs of the world
if we’re late, the quiet river of love will leave us—sulking—
and never come back again.
translated by George Messo
In Love with the Wind by Leyla Şahin
alone, and alone before too
from his eyes a carnation clings on to the world
in the middle of that world he was alone.
his kite never once reached the clouds
in the middle of that world he was alone.
the sun never once warmed his heart
in all the winters there were he was alone.
he lived a timid, fearful life
alone, alone among voices.
in his vision and his pose he was alone
in his memories alone, he had no songs:
in the evening he was most alone . . .
translated by George Messo
Farewell by Yü Hsüan-chi
All those tender nights upstairs in the capital, hearts content
together—I never guessed my pure-spirit love would leave.
Now dozing and waking, I don’t mention drifting clouds gone
who knows where. The lamp burns low. A wild moth flutters.
translated by David Hinton
going home
close my eyes
all the places I’ve ever been
fade away
all the lives I’ve ever lived
melt away
and the dust
weighing me down
blows away
I am transported
going home
oh my
at last going home
Leonard Durso 