the eyes droop
like eyes will
with sleep
a foreign concept
here
on the border
of what lies
ahead
one plans
in a fashion
a future
resembling
one’s vision
which is
worth living in
when life
comes calling
life
just perfect
everything was fine
he says
looking around
just perfect
and then
they ruined it
alas alack
says he
before leaving
life
he goes
is like that
just perfect
til they come along
and come along
they always do
to muck it up
just because
they can
“Life is short” by Cemal Süreya
Life is short
Birds are flying.
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
morning coffee
to make me
alert
to possibilities
that await
on this
new morning
new year
old life
this night
was to be
somehow different
but things
don’t always
work out
that way
this way
some way
and damn
the night air
feels good
on my numb
cheeks
and life
is what it is
as long
as it is
Living by Orhan Veli Kanık
I
I know living isn’t an easy thing to do
Or falling in love and singing of your girl
Taking a stroll under the stars at night
Warming up in the sunshine by day
Sneaking out for half a day to take it easy
On top of Istanbul’s loveliest hill
–Countless shades of blue flow in the Bosphorus–
And to forget all in the legions of blue.
II
I know living isn’t an easy thing to do
But look
The bed of a dead man is still warm,
A dead man’s wristwatch is ticking.
Brother, living is no easy affair,
But dying isn’t easy, either.
Leaving the world isn’t easy at all.
translated by Talat S. Halman
what price to pay
there is no winning
here
just a question of
how much to lose
save what you can
let go of the rest
what doesn’t stick
was never yours anyway
forget what they told you
about yours mine theirs ours
about choices
roads to take taken
each leads to a cliff
the question is not to fall
but how far down
life is losing more
than you gain
a sad reality
people places things
all you really take
with you
is what you cultivated
inside
and if losing it all
to start over
is the price you pay
then pay the two dollars
and move on
there’s more to see
to do
to feel
and what did you think
it was about
anyway
it was always this moment
poised on the cusp
ready to step off
into one more lifetime
for however long
it lasts
this business of mine
the well is deep
and I ponder it often
especially in early morning hours
a specialty of mine
there is a lesson to learn
and I could should learn it
so I am looking sideways
upside down
then backwards
a complicated process
this business of mine
just trying to figure out
all of it
before the ink runs dry
Cutting The Mustard by Paul Blackburn
The world and ourselves pass away
We go on
. . . . .and enter the dance
What other chances are there
we could think of as
. . . . .already prepared?
“The Weary Road” Two Sections: Section 2 by Pao Chao
Have you not seen the grasses on the riverbank?
They wither and die in winter, overspread the road in spring.
Have you not seen the sun above the city wall?
It grows dim, sinks, and disappears;
The next day it will come out again.
Now, at what time in my life can I be like this?
Once gone, I’ll forever perish in the Yellow Spring!
Life is full of bitterness and scant in joy;
To be high-sprited belongs to the prime of life.
There’ll always be money at my bedside to buy wine.
To be immortalized in bamboo or silk is not what I want:
Life or death, honor or debasement, I leave to heaven.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Leonard Durso 