I know, one day when sitting at a park
A hand will touch my shoulders as rain
A pair of eyes, an invitation, a heart
I’ll leave everyone behind . . .
Leaves will fall, flowers will wither
There will be an autumn, a morning and a rain
With scents of the earth and of people,
In a howling drunkenness, for the years
I’ll leave, go on my own.
translated by Omer Kursat
20th Century Turkish poetry
Morning in Maduray by Perihan Mağden
Didn’t I tell you
Not to open your mouth
Not to swallow birds
Their wings flap inside
And tire you
They’re woken before dawn
On trains
The bags under your eyes grow bigger
Listening to songs in temples
You unwind
translated by George Messo
Pale Blue by Aslı Durak
Hold my hand
Not to carry me far away . . . no.
My roots and branches
Will strain for distant clouds
Maybe my eyes
Are in that same pavilion of loneliness now
Let my face again be the statue of sadness
When you beautify me
Maybe
I’m a pale blue woman now
translated by George Messo
Birds by Perihan Mağden
Deceitful stones these birds
Recalling spring, they sing of it
Morning I opened the window
Winter streets, spring birds
translated by George Messo
Poem 3 by Enver Ercan
I had unraveled
under the spell of a garden
with stars overlooking its pool
she was bending over the water
a swan appeared
did the swan resemble the poppy
or was the poppy the swan
the question did not even occur to me
in that childish afternoon
when words retreated into silence
time
was kissing everything it passed.
translated by Suat Karantay
Someone Passing By by İlhan Berk
A swallow a puddle a piece of sky
They must have fallen off a poem.
Someone passing by thus said.
translated by Omer Kursat
For A Hopeful Ending by Turgut Uyar
one day I leave what is to remain of me
everything left unfulfilled remains
who would want to die in summertime
everything I left unfulfilled remains
my life seems to be of a whiteness
everything I left unfulfilled remains
I expand I scatter I am white
one day I leave, what is to remain of me
one day I leave oh vigorous horse
something of mine will surely remain
translated by Omer Kursat
I woke Up Three Times Loving You by İlhan Berk
I woke up three times loving you
I then changed the water in the vase
I could see a cloud that had taken off, drifting away.
Your face looked at if it fell off a part of the morning.
I paced the street the balcony and a half finished poem
I was bored I cooked for myself I dried herbs
I could hear a voice say “My Laurel!”
Your face was like the first days of the Republic.
I got up then walked up and down
Read poems, I reached the age of the poems
I felt your breath of clove gum on me.
I run through it over and over until only your beauty remains.
translated by Omer Kursat
At An Old Street Of Pera by İlhan Berk
Birds ascend from Hagia Irene
A stalk of grass behind their ears.
I tell myself that I am here finally
Here at this place, intersecting wth an old atlas.
A cat is gazing into your eyes
And the sky further below, as low as it can be.
And a woman trying to cross the street
I think of you and her incredibly thin neck that I do not see.
Peddlers, soldiers, knife sharpeners pass in front of me
And the sulky laborers of our world.
A voice says we are on the same peninsula
And vanishes down an old street of Pera.
I tread an old street of Pera like this every night
Every night with your mud on my soles.
translated by Omer Kursat
Rose by Cemal Süreya
I cry in the middle of the rose
Every night when I die in the middle of the street
I do not know my front or back
When I sense your eyes diminish in the dark
The eyes that keep me standing
I hold your hands, caress them till dawn
Your hands are white, white again and again
I am scared of your hands being this white
They are briefly a train at the station
I am a man who sometimes cannot find the station
I pick up the rose, brush it against my face
Had fallen on the street somehow
I break my arms, my wings
There is blood, a ruckus and music
And a new gypsy playing the horn
translated by Omer Kursat
Leonard Durso 