Even if I go home now
I can leave again a little later,—
These clothes and shoes are mine
And the streets belong to no one.
translated by George Messo
Orhan Veli Kanik
Walking the streets by Orhan Veli Kanık
Walking the streets, when I catch
Myself smiling to myself
And think how crazy they’ll suppose I am
I smile even more.
translated by George Messo
untited poem by Orhan Veli Kanık
This world will drive you mad;
This night, these stars, this scent,
This tree in blossom from tip to root.
translated by George Messo
Did I Fall in Love? by Orhan Veli Kanık
Was I going to have such thoughts too
And spend sleepless nights
And go through quiet spells?
And never miss
My favoriye salad?
Were things going to come to this?
translated by Talat S. Halman
Quantitative by Orhan Veli Kanık
I love beautiful women,
I also love working women;
But I love beautiful working women
More.
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
Trip by Orhan Veli Kanık
Birch trees are beautiful.
Still
When we arrive
At the last stop
I prefer
Being a river
To being a birch tree.
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
and the poem that led me to this wonderful poet 15 years ago thanks to Ali Rıza Esmen: I Am LIstening To Istanbul by Orhan Veli Kanık
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed
First a breeze is blowing
And leaves swaying
Slowly on the trees;
Far far away the bells of the
Water carriers ringing,
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed
A bird is passing by,
Birds are passing by, screaming, screaming,
Fish nets being withdrawn in fishing weirs,
A woman’s toe dabbling in water,
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed.
I am listening,
The cool Grand Bazaar,
Mahmutpasha twittering
Full of pigeons,
Its vast courtyard,
Sounds of hammering from the docks,
In the summer breeze far, far away the odor of sweat,
I am listening.
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed
The drunkenness of old times
In the wooden seaside villa with its deserted boat house
The roaring southwestern wind is trapped,
My thoughts are trapped
Listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed
A coquette is passing by on the sidewalk,
Curses, sings, sings, passes;
Something is falling from your hand
To the ground,
It must be a rose.
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed
A bird is flying round your skirt;
I know if your forehead is hot or cold
Or your lips are wet or dry;
Or if a white moon is rising above the pistachio tree
My heart’s fluttering tells me. . .
I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed.
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
and once more because I like this one so much: Am I In Love? by Orhan Veli Kanık
Was I going to have thoughts also?
Was I going to be an insomniac like this?
Was I going to be quiet like this?
To stop caring for the tossed salad I loved so much?
Was I going to turn into this?
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
Bird and Cloud by Orhan Veli Kanık
Birdman!
We have a bird
A Tree
Give me a nickel’s
Worth of clouds.
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
? by Orhan Veli Kanık
Why do I think of masts
When I mention a port?
And of sailboats
When I mention the open seas?
Of cats when I mention March,
Of workers when I mention justice?
And why does the old miller
Believe in God without thinking?
And on windy days
Why does the rain come down at a slant?
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
Leonard Durso 