20th Century Turkish poetry

Because by Nazım Hikmet

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They’ll go to the moon
. . . . . . .and beyond,
to places even telescopes can’t see.
But when will no one go hungry
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .on earth
. . . . . . .or fear others
. . . . . . .or push them around,
. . . . . . .shun them
. . . . . . .or steal their hope?
Because I responded to this question
. . . . . . . . . .I’m called a Communist.

translated by Randy Blasing & Mutlu Konuk

from About Living by Nazım Hikmet: No. 1

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Living is not a joking matter:
you have to live with great seriousness
. . . . . . . .like a squirrel, for instance,
that is to say, without expecting anything outside or beyond living,
. . .which means, you must devote yourself fully to living.

You have to take living seriously,
in such a way, to such an extent
that, for instance, your hands tied behind you, your back to the wall,
or wearing think spectacles and a white robe,
in a laboratory,
you must be willing to die for other people,
even those whose faces you have never seen,
although nobody has forced you to do this
and although you know that living
. . .is the most beautiful and the most genuine thing.

That is to say, you have to take living so seriously
that, for instance, even at age seventy, you will plant olive trees
. . .and not to leave them to your children, either,
. . .but because you don’t believe in death although you fear it,
. . . . . .because, I mean, living carries greater weight.

translated by Talat S. Halman

The Station by Melih Cevdet Anday

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An unknown evening hour
Of a station with an age-old platform, sadness
By my side, I knew no direction.

I had left you up there, in the sky
Dark were the trees and the road
Dark were your white clothes.

The night, that treasure, foreign stone
Your window was above the trees
No voice or iron can save me now.

Here I am in the hours
The hours are nowhere, no
Not in this direction, not in that.

I had left you up there, in the sky.

translated by Şehnaz Tahir-Gürçağlar

Half The Joy by Melih Cevdet Anday

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Remember when birds made rain
And rain hit the sun
I came to you

Half the joy in my mouth
Mornings grew to lilies
Plains rode horses

When the sea streamed to its tower
In my pockets stars from the night before
With bees and honey in my blood

My heart turned into a palm, remember
Then it was a fountain too
In the month of sad returns

I came to you.

translated by Şehnaz Tahir-Gürçağlar

The Tulip by Melih Cevdet Anday

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I undressed you with my own hands, like the spring
Laying the petals open
Your haste was all seeds like a pomegranate.

O the singing forest of sighs
The heart of kisses and glances
Questions in its fresh silence.

The roof of your desire floated in the sky
It was humming yellow butterflies
When every inch of you burst out.

I tied you down with my teeth
Like a greedy silkworm
Your redness was a crescent

Two petals of a tulip on the sheets.

translated by Şehnaz Tahir-Gürçağlar

Awakening by Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar

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And now life’s desolate twilight hour starts
Beyond distant cypresses daylight departs.

The garden of spring don the brightest sun,
The river’s voice rises and then is gone.

The nightingale sings of love’s sorrows
While rings of fire burn the rims of the rose.

translated by Talat S. Halman

A Story of the Sea by Cahit Külebi

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We shall always swim together in these blue waters
In this vervain sea that resembles your face.
Beating together, both my pulse and yours
Will strike at death and denounce darkness.

All the fish will chase us from the depths,
Saying Külebi is here now with his loved one.
Like a gull swooping from the vast horizon
The wind will drop shafts of light like pearls.

And the pearls will glitter around your neck,
On your chest and arms, like the words of my verses,
Sea anemone on your hair, your most secret parts,
Like rain, the stars will glide in your eyes.

Our love shall make these blue flames sacred.

translated by Talat S. Halman

Fear by Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar

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I have the fear of all things that end,
I am the Blue Eagle who drags the dawn
Along in his iron beak. . .
. . . . . . . . . . . .And life is caught
Within my claws like dangling emeralds
And deathlessness along my lovely swoop
Now bites the thirsty antelope of time.

translated by Talat S. Halman