CONTEMPORARY TURKISH POETRY & VISUAL ARTS
ADVAITAM SPEAKS L I T E R A R Y Vol. 4 - Issue 2 AN INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF POETRY, POETICS & VISUAL ARTS
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF : DEBASISH PARASHAR, UNIVERSITY OF DELHI GUEST EDITOR : RUHSAN ISKIFOÄžLU MANAGING EDITOR : ANTARIPA DEV PARASHAR
Founder, Publisher & Editor-in-Chief : Debasish Parashar managing editor : antaripa dev parashar
New Delhi-World advaitamspeaks@gmail.com
Advaitam Speaks Literary
Founder, Publisher & Editor-in-Chief : Debasish Parashar Managing Editor : Antaripa Dev Parashar. E-mail:
debasishparashar87@gmail.com advaitamspeaks@gmail.com
Published by Debasish Parashar New Delhi, India.
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TEAM ADVAITAM SPEAKS LITERARY
Debasish Parashar Founder,Publisher & Editor-in-Chief, Advaitam Speaks Literary.
Antaripa Dev Parashar Managing Editor, Advaitam Speaks Literary.
DEBASISH PARASHAR - UNIVERSITY OF DELHI (INDIA) EDITOR-IN-CHIEF, ADVAITAM SPEAKS LITERARY JOURNAL.
Debasish
Parashar
is
a
Multilingual
Poet,
Creative
Entrepreneur,
Singer/Musician, Lyricist based in New Delhi, India. He is an Assistant Professor of English literature at the University of Delhi. Parashar is the Founder & Editorin-Chief of Advaitam Speaks Literary journal and is associated with the World Poetry Movement. With his debut song ‘Pamaru Mana’ (2018), Debasish became one of the first Indian singer/composers who dared to experiment with the idea of fusing 500-years-old Borgeets of Assam with Western Orchestral music (with layered violins, pianos, snares & vocals), challenging the religious and ritualistic conventions of the Satras. His debut Music Video ‘Shillong’ from his debut EP ‘Project Advaitam’ released in the month of September 2018. He has sung for Raag, In Search of God, MUSOC XXV and elsewhere.
His
write-up
on
Majuli
has
been
listed
amongst
top
100
online
#worldheritagesites stories globally in May 2016 by Agilience Authority Index.
His
literary
works
have
appeared
in
Kweli
(New
York),
Sentinel
Literary
Quarterly (London), Voices de la Luna (USA), Contemporary Literary Review India, Enclave/Entropy (USA), La Experiencia De La Libertad (Mexico/Spanish), Expound (Africa), Asian Signature, Kitob Dunyosi (Uzbek), SETU, Five2One (USA),
Moonchild
(USA)
and
elsewhere.
Debasish's
works
are
featured
in
international anthologies such as World Poetry Almanac 2017-18, Epiphanies and Late Realizations of Love (USA), 'Where Are You From ?' (New York), 'Apple Fruits of An Old Oak' (U.S.A),‘22 Wagons’ (Serbian) and ‘Flowers of the Present’(the Netherlands) among others.
Debasish
has
read
or
received
invitations
to
read
in
various
national
and
international literary events/festivals including the 30th Medellin International Poetry Festival (the youngest Indian poet till date and the first from Northeast India), 4th Indija Pro Poet 2020 (Serbia), Dylan Day Project 2020 by London Welsh Centre, Gronthee, WPD-2020 Reading of Festival Internazionale di Poesia Civile e Contemporanea del Mediterraneo (Italy), 9th World haiku Seminar by World
Haiku
Association
(Japan),
Project
'Building
Smiles'
by
Fisdace
Foundation & CACB (Equador), 12 th International Writers Meeting organized by
UNESCO
International
affiliated Writers’
Writers
and
Festival-India
Artists by
Union
India
of
Tarija
(Bolivia),
Inter-Continental
12
Cultural
Association (India) and The 3 rd Edition of Festival Itinerante in Colombia among others.
Debasish Parashar was honored with the ‘Festival Charter for Interpretation’ award at the Indija Pro Poet-2020 International Literary Festival. He has received an Honourary Diploma (Diploma de Honor) signed by the Consul of Isla Negra, Chile by Movimiento Poetas Del Mundo (Movement of Poets of the World). Red Door
Café
and
Art
Gallery,
Denmark,
has
permanently
curated
his
poem
‘Fundamental Right to Dream’ in his own voice as part of ‘Poetic Phonotheque’, a
classic
collection
of
contemporary
world
poetry.
The
Poetic
Media
Lab,
Stanford University has curated the cinematic video of his poem ‘Fundamental Right to Dream’, a few other poems and a letter for the ‘Life in Quarantine’ project.
The Indonesian translations of some of his poems were included in the English Poetry Appreciation syllabus of Makassar Islamic University, Indonesia for the year 2017-18. Parashar has been/is getting translated into more than 30 world languages including Italian, Russian, Dutch, Spanish, Czech, French, Romanian, Serbian, Albanian, Persian, Afrikaans, Indonesian and Arabic. His poetry has been
featured
in
more
than
15
different
books/anthologies
from
renowned
publishing houses in India, the USA, Latin America, Russia, the Netherlands, Serbia and Mongolia. Overall, his poetry has appeared in more than 30 countries of the world.
RUHSAN ISKIFOĞLU - POET, TRANSLATOR AND ACADEMIC (CYPRUS) GUEST EDITOR, SPECIAL EDITION OF CONTEMPORARY TURKISH POETRY AND VISUAL ARTS
Ruhsan Iskifoğlu was born in Hatay in 1984. She completed her middle and high school
education
at
Eastern
Mediterranean
College
in
2001.
In
2005,
she
graduated from the Department of Turkish Language and Literature at the Eastern Mediterranean University Faculty of Arts and Sciences. In 2007, She completed her master’s degree at Eastern Mediterranean University Faculty of Education. She gave Ottoman Turkish lessons between the years 2013-2015. In the spring of 2016,
she
worked
as
a
part-time
instructor
at
the
Eastern
Mediterranean
University.
Between 2013 and 2016 She did poetry and panel translations for International Cyprus İskele festival.In 2018, she participated in Eskişehir Poetry Festival. Her poems have been published
in magazines such as Varlık, Sincan İstasyonu, Şiiri
Özlüyorum, Yasakmeyve, Turnalar, Şiirden, Arka Bahçe, Kurşun Kalem, İnsan Zaman Mekan , Caz Kedisi, and Advaitam Speaks Literary. Her translations have appeared in magazines such
as , Şiiri Özlüyorum, Sincan İstasyonu , Şiirden,
Kurşun Kalem ,Turnalar . She is responsible for translation and foreign relations of the Literary Magazine Uçsuz. She continues to pursue her academic studies and offers modern literature courses.
She is the author of Gözlemci Konuk Yazılı Kağıt Yayınları (2013), Şeffaf Söküm (2020).
Yasakmeyve Yayınları (2016) and poetica şiiri özlüyorum kitaplığı
content
POETRY GÖKÇENUR Ç.
ELIF SOFYA
RAHMİ EMEÇ
BETÜL DÜNDER
SELAHATTIN YOLGIDEN
ERKAN KARAKIRAZ
NURDURAN DUMAN
ÇAĞLA MEKNUZE
BETÜL TARIMAN
METIN CENGIZ
C. HAKKI ZARIÇ
EFE DUYAN
METIN TURAN
NIHAT ÖZDAL
HAKAN CEM
ERKUT TOKMAN
NILAY ÖZER
ANIL CIHAN
ASUMAN SUSAM
BIONOTES OF THE TRANSLATORS
VISUAL ARTS AHMET YESIL
GÖKÇENUR Ç.
Gökçenur Ç. is a poet, translator, editor and poetry activist based in Istanbul. As poet He has seven poetry books in Turkish, with his first book he’s got Arkadaş Z. Özger
Best
Kudret books been
Debut
Aksal are
Poetry
Literature
published
translated
into
in 30
Book Prize
Prize
and
Serbian,
and
Metin
with
Altıok
Romanian,
languages.
In
his
the
latest
Poetry
Bulgarian, Lettres
book
he’s
Prize.
Italian
Capitales
His and
got
Sabahattin
selected his
Project
poetry
poems of
have
European
Capital of Culture Marseille 2012, his book in handwriting in French and Turkish has been prepared and published as a single exhibition copy.
As
editor
He
is
the
editor
of
the
Turkish
magazine
Çevrimdışı
İstanbul
(İstanbul
Offline). He is the co-editor of the Turkish domain in Poetry International and is on the editorial board of Macedonian-based international literary magazine Blesok. He also edited many of poetry and poetry in translation books.
As
translatorHe
has
translated
and
published
selected
poetry
books
of
Wallace
Stevens, Paul Auster, Ursula Le Guin, Igor Isakovski, Katerina Illiopoulou, Claudiu Komartin, Milan Dobricic, Anat Zacharia, Ivan Hristov,
and many other poets into
Turkish. He is a member of Cunda International Workshop for Translators of Turkish Literature (CIWTTL). In CIWTTL he took part in translations of great Turkish poets Enis Batur, Behçet Necatigil, Haydar Ergülen etc.. into English.
As poetry activist He has participated and/or organized poetry translation workshops and festivals in many countries. He is the curator and co-director of Word Express; co-director
of
Gaziantep,
and
International
international Turkish
Poetry
poetry
American
Festival,
International Poetry Movement.
festivals Poetry
Crete
Offline Days;
Istanbul, and
International
board
Poetry
Mosaic
of
member Festival
Metaphors of
and
Nilüfer Kritya
Söyle Sevdin mi Kayısı Ağaçlarını?
Tell Me If You Liked the Apricot Trees
Sarıl bana,
Hold me
anlat
and whisper,
omuzlarına benziyor mu
does the world
dünya?
resemble your shoulders.
İstemem
I don’t want to
çıkmak dışarıya,
go out
anlattıkların
what you speak of
yeter bana.
is enough for me
Söyle sevdin mi
Tell me
kayısı ağaçlarını,
if you liked
sevdin mi
the apricot trees
saçlarını
or the rains
ıslatan
soaking
yağmuru?
your hair
Sen sevdim de
If you only say I liked it
ben sana yazarım
I’d write a rain for you,
uzun, sicim gibi,
A long, thread like rain
atlara tanrıları
that compels the horses
unutturan
to forget their gods
bir yağmur. Hold me Sarıl bana,
and whisper,
anlat
does the world
omuzlarına benziyor mu
resemble your shoulders.
dünya? (Translated by Gökçenur ç)
Seherin Sarı Kısrakları
Atlar geçiyor apartmanın önünden.
Hiç dinmeyecek mi bu yağmur? diyorsun, uykulu.
Yağmur çoktan dindi sevgilim gün ağardı,
The Yellow Mares of Morning
şiir bitti. Horses passing
Ama bak,
in front of the apartment block.
sözcükler çırpınıyor hâlâ anlatabilmek için seni.
Sleepily you ask, will this rain never stop?
The rain has already ceased my love, the day has dawned, the poem is done.
But look, the words keep fluttering in order to speak of you.
(Translated by Gökçenur ç)
RAHMİ EMEÇ
RAHMİ
EMEÇ
was
born
in
1959
in
Eskisehir.
He
worked
as
a
journalist
in
the
Eskisehir offices of the Hurriyet and Milliyet News Agencies, Evrensel (Universal) and Emek (Labour) newspapers and also local newspapers in Eskisehir. His poems and
writings
took
(Edebiyat-81),
part
in
Tomorrow
many
cultural
(Yarın),
Sweep
and
art
magazines
(Dönemeç),
such
Universal
as;
Literature-81
Culture
(Evrensel
Kültür), Coast (Kıyı), Vessel (Damar), Country of Poetry (Şiir Ülkesi) Good Writings (Güzel Yazılar), Sincan Station ( Sincan İstasyonu), Akatalpa, Yazılıkaya, Forbidden Fruit (Yasak Meyve). He is publishing a magazine called ‘Yazılıkaya Şiir Yaprağı’ with Haydar Ergülen and Erol Büyükmeriç. He is married and has a son and daughter named Gökçe and Umut
AWARDS: Youth Poetry Awards, laudable (Yeni Türkü Publications, 1984), PetrolWark Union Poetry Secondary Awards 1991, Petrol- Work Union jury’s special award 1992,
Ali
Rıza
Ertan
Poetry
Achievement
Award
1994,
Sabri
Altinel
Poetry
Secondary Awards 1994.
BOOKS:
Sevgiyi
Dağlara
Salacağım
1991,
Ertelenmiş
Düşler
Kitabı
2005,
Kırık
Zihinler Sahafı 2011, Bakışsız Gece (2013), Masallar Mektuplar ve Kuşlar (2014), Uzak İnsanın İçindedir (2016), Hasarlı Tarih Notları (2016)
Randevu
bana cumartesi gel; postadan çıkan, sait faik pullu mektuplar gibi, okşanmaya hazır.
diğer günlerin de, hatırını sorma inceliği olsun gülüşümüzde. sade, içten ve kendine büyüyen, akşam üstleri kadar durgun.
anılara çekilmiş de, keyfini çıkaran bir tebessüm olsun yüzünde; cumartesi gel bana…
Rendezvous
come to me on saturday ; out of the post, like a sait faik stamp letters, ready to be carresed
other days too, ask about gracefulness our smile. pure, heartfelt and self growing, calm as much as evening.
drawn to memories, have a smile on your face; come to me on Saturday…
(Translated by Ruhsan İskifoğlu)
VİCTOR JARA
VİCTOR JARA
victor jara’yı düşündüm bugün;
I thought Victor Jara today;
gitarın sesi,
the sound of the guitar,
doldurdu dünyamı.
filled my world.
nereden aklına gelir,
where
insanın durup dururken,
all of a sudden,
başka hayatların tanıdık yüzü?
familier face of others
-selam, uzak yerlerin yakın sesi
-hi, the close voice of distance places
yarım kalan şarkısı hepimizin,
the unfinished song of all us,
onurlu,
honorable,
güzel kardeşim benim.
my kind brother.
it does comes to
mind
lifes?
(Translated by Ruhsan İskifoğlu)
SELAHATTIN YOLGIDEN
Selahattin English,
Yolgiden
German,
Hungarian
and
was
Italian,
Bulgarian.
born
in
Dutch, He
is
İstanbul. Croatian, a
His
poems
Serbian,
member
of
the
have
been
Swedish, editorial
translated
Malayalam,
board
to
into
Greek,
Çevrimdışı
İstanbul Literature Magazine and Offline İstanbul International Poetry Festival.
His books are: Su Kıyısında Kimse Yoktu, 2004, Adam Yayınları (Winner of the Cemal Süreya Poetry Award in 2004) Gün Geceye Küstüğünde, 2007, İkibinaltı Yayınları (Winner of the M. Sunullah Arısoy Poetry Award in 2007) Unuttuğum Limanlar – 2009 Sel Yayıncılık Lacivert Bir Oyundu İkimiz Arasında, 2011, Kırmızı Kedi Yayınları (Winner of the Arif Damar Poetry Award in 2011) Eve Geç Kaldım Yalnızlık Bekler – 2013 – Kırmızı Kedi Yayınları (Winner of the Behçet Aysan Poetry Award in 2014) Gittiğim En Uzak Yer Sizdiniz – 2015 – Kırmızı Kedi Yayınları Herkes Ayrıldı Kendinden – 2017 – Kırmızı Kedi Yayınları
richard wagner
parsifal: prelude to act 1
rüzgârın tırnakları uzayan bir ölü içimde, tıkırdayan a'sı bozuk bir daktilo
richard wagner vazgeçtim tanrıların sözlerinden kendi kitabını yazacak bir peygamber
parsifal: prelude to act 1
yarattım kimsesiz bir gölgeden
nails of the wind ekim huzursuzların ayıdır yırtılmış biletler, sararmış havlular bel kokan bekar evleri, kendini
a dead body growing longer inside me, a clattery type writer with a broken a
bir öğrenci yurdunun giriş kapısına asan zürafa, memur cesetleri ve istanbul biri plajda dans ediyor temmuz'dan beri
beni unuttuğun klavyendeki s harfinin yepyeni olmasından belli.
i gave up the god’s words up i gave life to unclaimed shadows and created a prophet who’ll write his own book
october is the month of the anxious ones torn tickets, pale towels, semen smelling bachelor pads, a giraffe who hanged himself to the dormitory door, dead public officers and istanbul someone is still dancing on a beach since july
from the spickandspan s we can see you already forgot me.
( from “herkes ayrıldı kendinden” . Translated by Gökçebur Ç. )
cezanne
sallanan sandalyede yaşlı bir adamdan kalan kırık gözlük ve kar kuşları bahçede eski yılın son günleri boğuyor geyikleri
çocukluğundan kalan yalanlar kar tanecikleri gibi dönüp duruyor
cezanne
avluda titreyen köpeğin etrafında
broken glasses on a rocking chair ipe asılı buldular göl kıyısında bir ağaçta fa teli kopuk bir kontrbası
forgotten by an old man, snow-birds in the garden, choked deers by the last days of the year
tabutu gibi yanında ağzı açık kılıfı
lies remained from your childhood atlı tramvayın bir aralık günü ezdiği johan kalktı otopsi masasından, elinde beyni
circling like snow flakes around the dog trembling in the yard
“bana öğretin ayakta kalmayı öldüğümde”
they found the f string broken double bass üç çocuk nehir kıyısında ölü bir kuzgunu inceliyor değneklerle
hanging down a tree by the lake, its half open case was like a coffin aside
morartan mart soğuğunda
johan, who was crushed by a horse-tram, bir baykuş sallanıyor dalda kahkahayla
got up from the autopsy table, holding his brain in his hands and said “teach me how to stand still when I am dead”
three kids are examining a dead crow by the sticks, by the river everything becomes blue in the march cold
an owl swings on a branch as it bursts in a laughter
(from “eve geç kaldım yalnızlık bekler”. Tranlated by Gökçenur Ç.)
NURDURAN DUMAN
Nurduran Duman is a Turkish poet and playwright who lives in Istanbul. Pursuing her
passion
for
the
sea,
she
received
a
degree
as
an
Ocean
Engineer
and
Naval
Architect from the Istanbul Technical University. And, she’s a columnist in one of the most prestigious newspapers of Turkiye, Cumhuriyet. Her books include Yenilgi Oyunu, the 2005 Cemal Sureya Poetry Award winner, and Mi
Bemol.
Semi
Circle,
a
chapbook
of
her
poems
translated
into
English,
was
published in the United States in 2016, and “Selected Poems” (2017, MacedonianEnglish-Turkish) in Macedonia, “Selected Poems” (2019, Dutch-English-Turkish) in Belgium. Her poetry collection “Steps of Istanbul” (2019, Chinese-English-Turkish) was published in China in 2019, and was awarded as “The Poetry Collection of the Year
of
the
Second
Boao
International
Poetry
Award”.
She
featured
in
the
#internationalwomensday2018 (#IWD18) Modern Poetry in Translation (MPT) list of ten women poets in translation from all over the World in 2018. Her
poems
Turkish,
also
have
Bulgarian,
been
translated
Romanian,
Slovak,
into
Finnish,
French,
Chinese,
German,
Spanish,
Occitan,
Azerbaijani
Macedonian,
and
Italian etc. She curated two events in Istanbul in 2019, in the name of the World Poetry Movement. She is a member of Turkish PEN.
gök yerleşmiş göle
gök yerleşmiş göle, bulutlar uçan halı adımladık adımlıyoruz ayı, yürüyüşünü üstünden geçiyoruz dansının, suyla zamanın
uçuşarak hidrojen etekleri süzülüyor yanımızdan başımızdan. tan. saçıp saçılarak tarçından maviye elmastan arıdan tarlalar bahçeler beziyoruz yerin ipeğine
öğreniyoruz biz de ekip biçmeyi: ışığı
the sky settled on the lake
the sky settled on the lake, the clouds a flying carpet we prepare to step on the moon, its walk and pass over the moon’s dance, its water and time
rustling hydrogen skirts float passing by our sides by our heads. daybreak. we spread and are spread from cinnamon to blue from diamond from bee we’re graced with fields and gardens on the earth’s silk
we, too, are learning to cultivate: the light
(Trasnlated by Andrew Wessels)
yeti
ışık çarpışır çiçekle göz varsa renk olur yoksa oluştur, olan oluşur sadece
kulak yoksa ormanda çıtırdasın yaprak ses oluştur sadece, yankının bekleyişi dağı
koku koklanmak ister ad için isim için uçuşur çeperden çeper, tenin tenle bilişi
insan artı biridir dünyanın katma değeridir, ayrı ayrı vergisi aynı sevişi
ability
light collides with the flower if there’s an eye color becomes if there’s no eye it’s just being, becoming becomes only
if there’s no ear let the leaf crunch sound is only being, the echo waiting for the mountain
scent desires inhalation to discern/divine the name the reputation membrane flies from membranes, the knowing of skin with skin
the human is the plus one of the world she is the added value, individual talents the same loving
(Translated by Andrew Wessels)
BETÜL TARIMAN
Betül
Tarıman
is
a
Turkısh
poet
and
essayist.
She
studied
History
at
Hacettepe
University. Her first poem appeared in Kıyı magazine in 1992. Other magazines that have
included
her
work
are
Varlık,
Gösteri,
Sözcükler,
E
Edebiyat,
Damar,
Yasak
Meyve, Adam Sanat and Edebiyat ve Eleştiri. She was the recipient of the Necatigil Poetry Prize in 2005. She currently writes literary essays for Cumhuriyet Kitap.
AGOSTİNO
AGOSTİNO
bana bir gün biri one day somebody gave me a blue bir mavi verdi ı got confused aklım karıştı the world is the oldest dünya en eski blue mavi
ı sat down in the corner oturdum köşeye snow fall down on my shoulders omuzlarıma my soul is the oldest kar düşmüş blue köşelerimden biri en eski mavi
anlama indim
ı sought after the meaning
anlamaya olup biteni
to understand what is going on
aklım karıştı
ı got confused
yüzüm en eski
my face is the oldest
mavi
blue
herkes benden kötü
everybody is worse than me
herkes benden ötürü
everybody is because of me
dün bana biri geldi
yesterday somebody came to me
tenim en eski mavi
my skin is the oldest blue
(Translated by Özgün Eylem Aktaş)
DEM DEM DEM
TİME TİME TİME
time time time dem bu dem eyes are looking up to sky gözleri göğe eyebrows are scowling at it kaşları kalkan
yesterday ı was contented dün zengindim today ı m lonely bugün tenha
time time time dem dem dem time is a river wich wrecks its own dem bu dem strem bed fazla yaşamak yatağını zorlayan should ı live a lot? ırmak or should ı die? az mı yaşasam for not to ashame theearth çok mu yaşasam toprağımı utandırmasam should ı be a cliff?
uçurum mu olsam
(Translated by Özgün Eylem Aktaş)
C. HAKKI ZARIÇ
C.
Hakkı
Zariç
was
born
in
the
town
of
Susuz,
which
is
located
in
the
east
of
Turkey, on January 5, 1972. For nearly ten years he was imprisoned on the basis of his political views. Together with some of his friends, he published a journal titled Ağır Ol Bay Düzyazı (Take it Easy, Mr. Prose). He served as an editor for Evrensel Culture Magazine and Evrensel Publications, which were both shut down upon the issuance of a state legislative decree. His poetry and articles have been published in Turkish journals such as İzlek, Öteki-siz, Varlık, Yasakmeyve, Edebiyat-ist, Rüzgâr, Bireylikler, Yeni e, and Eliz Edebiyat. Not only has his work been translated into various directed
languages, a
he
has
documentary
been
about
invited
literature
to
a
number
titled
Zaman
of
international
Işık
Kelimeler
festivals. (Time,
He
Light,
Words), which was broadcast on the channel Hayat TV. Currently, he works for a non-profit
organisation
and
serves
as
editor
of
the
culture,
arts,
and
literature
magazine Yeni e and the Turkish publisher Manos Books.
Books (in Turkish):With the Burn in Our Mouths (1999), If Only… (2001), Letters to Poets (2006), With You (2006), Zero (2014), Shame and Dignity (2015), Women of Dust (2015), Zoster (2017), and The Warning (2019).
Awards
in
Turkey:
His
poem
“If
Only…”
was
awarded
the
Mısralık
Youth
Poetry
Prize in 2000, and he won second place at the 2008 Behzat Ay Literature Awards. In 2017, he was granted the BUYAZ Honorary Poetry Prize.
In addition to being a member of the Turkish Writers’ Union, for which he served as general secretary during its 19th, 20th, and 21st terms, he is also a member of PEN International.
Yaşlı evlerin özlediği çocuk seslerinden geçtim Konuk olduğum limandan batık gemiler geçti
Güz Ağrısı
İnsan nerede duruluyor ki…
Bilemedim Kim söker ölü atların toynağından nalbandın çekiç seslerini? Sorudur, aynaların geçmişinde saklıdır gözleri. Sesini çınar yaprağına ödünç veren kentlerde yaşayan kimdir? Serinliğin uğramadığı çeşmelerde su kimsesizliğe akar, ömrümüz şelale. Mektup yazsan pulda güz ağırlığı, yola çıksan zarf ödünç. Kış’tan yorgun sözcükler satır başında eksikti sabaha. Durgunluğun telaşıyla kırıldı Sur, çayın deminde utanç birikti. Ihlamurdan sonra içine çekildi bahçeler, Erdal Eren’den evvel Ankaralı ve yerleşikti ayaza tuzak. Ufalmış sokakların saçını tarayan caddeler yeni gelenlerin kollarında dineldi. Kiminin yarasına incir yaprağı, kiminin hakisi için defne körükledi pişmanlığı. Dağın mendilinde eter, çığlık yutkunan istasyonda yürümenin bakiyesi eteklerini topladı yağmurdan.
Hayata kaldır başını, yoldaki taş onarsın kalbini geride kalanın. Hangi kapıdan geçsen toprağın imzası kazılı mermere, bunu biliyor lacivert erkân ve öncesi. Dizini dövmedi doruktan uzağa bakanlar, herkesin içinde kundaklanmış telaş, ellerine şaşırdı herkes, yaz’ın sözlerini fısıldadı durmuş saatlere geri çekilenler.
Suça meyli kışkırtmayan yaşadım demesin! Aşkın huzuru sevdiğine kim tanık olmuş, ne hakla? Kalbi kırılsın eğninde tılsım gezdirenin. Uzağa hükmü geçmeyenin şarkısını kim söyler ki Kütahya’da? Yanıtı yoktur haritanın somut olana.
Ben sana su kuşları, gazete dağıtan işçiler, ben sana yazılı kâğıt. Uzun namlulu bir öfke gibi uzaktan ben sana. Leylakların çocukluğu saklı sanki orada akşama kalmış sözcükler, kıvılcım salyaları vuruyor kentin kıyılarına. Hatıra saklayacağımız ağaç dibi kalmadı. Issız ve ev doluyuz. Kuytular mahsur nicedir, güneşi bekliyor bütün gece mülteciler. Yalan silkeliyoruz aynaların üstüne. Kehribar kederler edindik, yalnızlıktan daha fazlası yaşadığımız. Acıtan ve sevdiğini iddia eden bir dünya bu, ölsek umurunda değil, yaşadıkça alacaklı hayatımızdan. Yine de kalbimizi çelmenin bin yolunu biliyor, insafsız! İnsafsız! Süzülsün gemiler, batsın liman!
I traversed children’s voices that old houses longed for, Shipwrecks traversed the harbour where I was a guest
Autumn Ache
Where could anyone settle down… I wouldn’t know Who pries the ringing of the farrier’s hammer from dead horses’ hooves? A question, its eyes obscured within the histories of mirrors. Who lives in the towns that lend their voices to a sycamore leaf? Fountains unvisited by coolness flow into desolation, our lives are waterfalls. If you write a letter, the stamp bears the weight of autumn, if you set off on a journey, the envelope is a borrowed one. By morning, words wearied by winter were missing from the indents of their lines. Sur was sundered by the hurried stillness, shame pooled in the darkly steeped tea.
After the linden trees, the gardens also withdrew into themselves, they had settled in Ankara long before Erdal Eren, traps against the frost. Avenues that comb the hair of shrinking streets stood tall in the arms of newcomers. Some had fig leaves for their wounds, while daphnes fanned the flames of regret for the khaki of others. Ether on the mountain’s handkerchief, in that station which gulps down screams the remnants of walking drew back its skirt from the rain.
Raise your head up to life, may the stone upon the ground mend the hearts of whoever has been left behind. No matter which door you pass through, the soil’s signature is etched into marble, the dark blue dignitaries know this as do those who came before them. None who gazed from the peak into the distance pounded their knees, the flicker of haste was fanned aflame within everyone, all were surprised by their hands, and those in retreat whispered the words of summer into clocks that had stopped. Those who don’t incite others to crime have no right to say they have lived! Who has ever borne witness to love’s affection for peace, how dare they claim so? May whoever wears an amulet strung across their shoulders be heartbroken. In Kütahya, who could sing the song of those who hold no dominion over distance? The map has no response for that which is concrete.
I am to you as waterbirds, workers handing out newspapers, I am to you as handwritten pages. I am to you as far away as long-barrelled fury. The childhoods of lilacs seem to be hiding there, words lingering overnight, the spittle of sparks crashing against the town’s shoreline. There are no more trees for us to hide our memories under. We are solitary and yet a packed house.
Secluded places have long been cut off, refugees wait all night long for the sun to appear. We brush off lies onto the surfaces of mirrors. We acquired sorrows of amber, what we endure is much more than solitude.
This is a world that inflicts pain and says it loves, yet not caring if we die a claimant upon our lives until the day of our death. Still, it knows a thousand ways to steal our hearts, that savage! That savage! Let the ships glide on, let the harbour plunge down!
Su sonra Su Kasten su
toz yüzyılı
İnsan nerede doğmuyor ki… Yoldaş Paramaz’a ve…
Ekmeğin şiirden kovulduğu yerden geliyorum Bütün meyhaneciler Rum. Ömrümü kime emanet etsem? Gecenin kumaşı eskimiş, uykusu doğranmış perdelerin, kasaturalar Avlu kapılarında potin izleri. Gençlikten konuşuyoruz, ilk şarkısı İdam edilen bir halkın kalkışmasından, mağrur ufuk çizgisi bazen Umutsuz mavisinde serçelerin göğü. Meydanlar ve barut kokusu Unutmanın perçeminde saklıyor yorgunluğun ölgün rengini Umursamaz masalarda nasırlı dirseklerin aklından yekinmek geçmiyor
Gidelim, Van’da ikimizin resmini yapacak biri vardır mutlaka Çiçekleri yoracak annemizin peştemalinde
Her nasılsa bir eve armağan ediyorum beni, uzun saçlı bir dalgınlık gibiyim. Pencerede gözlerim eskiyor, uzak bir söylence dolaşıyor yenilerde. En çok Diyarbakır, bazen Kars, Afyon hatta, İzmit belki de Kastamonu. Tırpanla biçiyor insanın ömrünü Haydarpaşa’dan kalkan tren Seni Gümüşsuyu’nda bir kuyunun kör sesine bağırsam kim çıldırır ikimizden
Ki rüzgârın sesi dolaşıyor zeytinliklerde, kırılmış kalemden geriye Yanıtsız bir ülkenin uzun parmaklı elleri ve mahcup bir hâkim kalıyor
Oysa ödünç hüzünler büyütüyoruz nicedir katiller meşru müdafaa savcılar için. Devlete delil gerekmez. Ninni çözer meseleyi. Utanır üç ayaklı ahşap ve urgan.
Sen saçlarını uzat sevgilim İstanbul’dan Suriye çöllerine doğru savur yüz yılı. Erken ölenlerin sesi gibi, dalgın kentlere düşen çiğ gibi telaşlı sabahlar İncinmiş bir halkın susması gibi konuş, onların sesiyle sula çiçekleri
Then, water Water Wilful water
a century of dust
People can be born anywhere and everywhere… For Comrade Paramaz and….
I come from a place where bread has been driven from poetry, All the taverna keepers are Greek. In whose hands shall I place my life? The fabric of night is threadbare, the sleep of curtains butchered, bayonets Boot marks on the courtyard gates. We talk of youth, the uprising Of a people whose first song was executed, the horizon is haughty sometimes, The sky of sparrows a despairing blue. Town squares and the stench of gunpowder Veil the faded hue of exhaustion beneath the fringe of forgetting Calloused elbows propped on apathetic tables never think of rising
Let’s go, there has to be someone in Van who can draw our picture, Exhaust the flowers on our mother’s peshtemal
Somehow I make a gift of myself to a house, I am like a long-haired state of distraction. In the window my eyes become worn, of late a distant myth has been wandering. Diyarbakır most of all, sometimes Kars, even Afyon, perhaps İzmit or Kastamonu. The train departing from Haydarpaşa mows down our lives with a scythe
If I shout your name into the blind voice of a well in Gümüşsuyu which of us will go mad?
And as the wind’s voice roams the olive groves, all that remains from a broken pen Are the long-fingered hands of a country without answers and a humiliated judge
But for so long now we have been cultivating borrowed sorrows, in the eyes of prosecutors murderers act in self-defence. The state needs no evidence. A lullaby will solve the problem. A three-legged stool and rope hang their heads in shame.
My love, hold out your hair from Istanbul Drive the century toward Syrian deserts. Uneasy mornings like the voices of the untimely dead, like dewdrops descending on distracted towns, Speak like an aggrieved people who now keep silent, water the flowers with their voices!..
(Poems Trasnlated By İdil Karacadağ &Mark David Wyer)
METIN TURAN
Metin
Turan
technical in
Şiir,
born
education,
1981.He
writer
was
in
has
many
Erde,
in
1966
health
and
contributed progressive
which
in
Kağızman
economics.
as
a
in
His
publishing
editions
published
(Kars-Turkey).
the
such
as;
1980s.
first
tale
was
coordinator, Amatör
Also
he
studied
published
delegate
Sanat,
has
He
İmece,
contributed
and Yeni
to
the
magazines as an owner: Sanat Hareketi, Promete, Sendika, Ürün, Anadolu Ekini,
Mecaz
Folklore
ve
Service
Praksis. Award
In
of
1995,
he
Folklore
was
honored
Research
with
Institution.
the He
Turkish was
the
folklorist who won this award at the youngest age so far. Metin Turan is the
president
Literatures
of
KIBATEK
Institution)
and
(Cyprus,
Folklore
Balkans,
Researchers
Eurasian
Foundation.
Turkish
His
poems
were translated into Polish, German, Arabic, Bulgarian, Persian, English, Korean, In
Macedonian,
addition,
Serbian
his
and
Romanian,
book
Russian,
“KÖROĞLU”
published
in
these
was
countries.
Uzbek,
Ukrainian
translated In
into
1997-98,
he
and
Greek.
Albanian worked
in
and the
Ministry of Culture of the Republic of Turkey; Culture and Art Broadcast Advisory Board and Folk Culture Broadcast Advisory Board. Also he was a
member
of
publishing contents
the
coordinator
are
literature, publishing Literatures
editorial
and
of
folklore, has
director
of
“Türk
published
KIBATEK
Institution),
Dünyası”
magazine.
FOLKLOR/EDEBİYAT
anthropology,
been of
board
which
sociology,
since
1994.
(Cyprus, started
In
magazine
history,
he
Eurasian,
activities
in
is
the
whose
music
addition,
Balkans,
its
He
is
and the
Turkish
1998,
and
TURNALAR, an international translation and literary magazine.
His
poetry
Ülkeler
books:Suları
-şiir-
(2007),
Islatan
Ağustos
Gidiş (seçme şiirler) (2015).
Mecnun Aldı
–şiir-
Sırlarımı
(2003), -şiir-
Sokaklar
(2013)
and
Kentler Hal
ve
GÖZLERİNDEN YAKALADIM SENİ
Caught You By Your Eyes
hüznümü sevince döndüren
your face was a lilac sun
leylak bir güneşti yüzün
turning my sorrow into joy
gerdanından yakaladım seni
I caught you by your neck
taş merdivenleri döndükçe endamından
as I climbed the staircase of your figure
saçının rüzgarından yakaladım seni
I caught you by the wind of your hair
buğday sarısı bir dalgadır,
a wave as yellow as wheat
upuzun ki haritası gibi sevdamın
as long as the map of my love
yolculuğu gölge kılıp günüme
I caught you by the way you left,
çıkıp gitmenden yakaladım.
the journey was the shadow of my day.
You know how the earth becomes a fairground bayram açar ya yeryüzü
I caught you by your hand
yüzün yüzüme değer gibi
as if your face touched mine
elinden yakaladım seni I caught you by your eyes gözlerinden yakaladım seni
an aquamarine infinity
bakır çalığı bir uçsuzluk
by the fire of your voice
mermeri
that melts marble
eritiveren
sesinin yalımından now your hands smell like jasmine şimdi yasemen kokusu ellerin
and your skies have bloomed into April
ve nisan açmış gökyüzünle
and you are in another continent
bir başka kıtada sen
with me in yet another, growing your melancholy
efkarını büyüten başka bir kıtada ben I caught you by my life ömrümden yakaladım seni (Translated by Cem Akaş)
YALNIZLIK KİTABESİ
bilirdim bütün falcıların yalancı aşkların inkarcı olduğunu gözlerim de yoruldu/ömrümü seyretmekten
leylekleri fotoğraftan seyrediyor çocuğum soluk bir sonbahar resmi gibi kendini görse aynada
elini ürkerek uzatıyor
belgesellerin bu kadar ilginç olması ondan eve yorgun dönen babaya dönüşmüş hepsi sırtlarında taşımaktan korktukları okul kitapları
çizgiye dönüşse gözyaşın dünya sele boğuluyor herkes belediye başkanına buluyor suçu aynı coğrafyayı
betonlaştırıyor
attığımız her izmaritten yonttuğumuz selvi dalından ağaçtan, börtü böcekten habersiz ödenmez bir ah’ın günahını taşıyoruz
sırtını rüzgara vermiş ömrün ortasındayım artık gölgeyi kendine saklayan söğüt ağacı sular ki buharlaşır kurur her yanım attığım sapanla kendimi vuran ben şimdi ormanımda yalnız ardıcım.
fincanlarla kadınların kahveyle gerçeğin yerini değiştiren aklım sana da elveda diyor gönlüm bir ısparta gülü kadar beyaz emirdağ türküsü kadar
yalnız.
The Epitaph of Loneliness
I knew that all fortune tellers were liars that every love is denial and my eyes grew weary watching my life go by
my son follows the storks in a photograph like a faded autumn painting when he sees himself in a mirror he timidly reaches out that’s why documentaries are so interesting all children have turned into tired fathers coming home with books they are afraid to carry on their backs
when your tears turn into lines the whole world is flooded everyone blames the mayor and covers our lebensraum with cement we carry the sin of a curse that offers no redress, oblivious of every cigarette butt we throw away, of the cypress branch we sharpen, of all the trees and insects
my back turned to the wind, I’m in mid-life now a willow saving its shadow for itself the waters evaporate, leaving me dry all over I hit myself with my sling now I am the lonely juniper in my forest.
my mind replaces women with cups, reality with coffee, my heart, as white as a rose, [my heart, as white as a rose from ısparta] as lonely as the blues, [as lonely as a folk song from emirdağ] bids you farewell. (Translated by Cem Akaş)
HAKAN CEM
Hakan Cem (1961-): State
Sypmhony
The writing and poems of
Orcherstra,
have
been
published
Cem who is cellist for the İzmir by
the
publishing
houses
Varlık,
Kitap-lık, Forbidenfruit, Özgür Edebiyat etc. And have also been published on the internet poems
Artful
were
Living
translated
Literature into
portal
French,
as
Cem
well
as
together
in
literary
with
journal.
poets
Sina
Some
Akyol,
of
his
Coşkun
Yerli and Seyhan Erözçelik, took place in the Renga poetry chain consisting of short poems
that
engage
with
the
human
condition
and
Encylopedia
of
“Literature
from
Tanzimat and Today” published by Yapı Kredi publishing. Cem is one of the few poets in the field of Haiku poetry in Turkey. Cem who is also a member of PEN Turkish Writers Association, lives in izmir.
Poetry: Beyon Silence (2004), Kiss Drops (2007), and Guide fort the Dead (2014, S Arısoy Poetry Award)
hiç’in vesveseli uzun şiiri
al götür sözlerimi, yazıya dökülenlerin adıyla oku! kuru otların şarkısını söylüyorum, derindekileri. ölüm efendisidir ben’in, itiraf ediyorum: yoruldum denize bakan yaşlı sandalyede. uysal gözlerim ve sabırlı bekleyişim daha çok bir orman gibi sessiz.
(…)
burada, yalnızın ocağında sana tutuştum. yoksun!
(gölgesini usulca ağacın gölgesine bıraktı. yeraltı sularıymış kayıkçının yol aldığı huzur!)
ölüm biziz!
the long restless poem of nothing
come and take my words, read them with the names of those that were written! I sing the song of the dry grass, of the ones lost to the depths.
death is the lord of me, I
confess: I'm tired in the old chair facing the sea. my docile eyes and patient waiting are silent more like a forest.
(...)
here, in the hearth of loneliness I burn for you. you are not here!
(he casts his shadow softly into the shade of the tree. subterranean waters were the peace that the boatman sailed!)
death is us!
(Trasnlated by Alev Adil)
dünyanın dar sokağında
annem mualla cem’in 89. yaş anısına
oturuyorum – sandalyenin yorgunluğu gülümsüyor, tutsak sesi kim büyüttü seni?
in a narrow street of the world
yasemin çiçeği! – bahçe kapısına sarılan
In memory of my mother Mualla Cem's 89th birthday
gözleriyle, uzun yıllara duran yasemin çiçeği! – yorgun düşerek… I'm sitting -
susuyor iç çeken kış rüzgârı iniltili sesiyle emilen sütün
the chair smiles its
weariness , its captive voice who raised you?
mayhoş tadı! – mermer yontuyor... the jasmin flower! – that hugged the garden gate
(…)
with its gaze, standing for long years the jasmine flower! -
falling tired ...
ölümün tazecik gençliği! the sighing winter wind falls silent
(…)
milk sucked with moaning sound its sour taste! – that sculpts marble ...
(uyanıp yaz ikindileri dudağında, daha şimdi sen vardın, diyor
(...)
dünyanın dar sokağında.) the fresh youth of death!
(...)
(Waking up
summer afternoons on her lips,
just now you existed, she says in the narrow street of the world.)
(Translated by Alev Adil)
NILAY ÖZER
Nilay Özer is an Istanbul born and raised poet. Nilay Özer graduated from Kandilli Kız Lisesi and studied biology teaching and primary teaching in Marmara University, Department of Biology Teaching and Department of Primary. After she worked as an elementary school teacher for two years she received her MA degree from Bilkent University, Department of Turkish Literature with her thesis about the form-content opposition in Turgut Uyar’s book entitled Divan. She received her PhD from the same department in 2012 with her dissertation titled “Images in Nâzım Hikmet’s Human Landscapes From My Country: Society, History and Cinema”. She has been teaching Turkish, Creative Writing and modern Turkish Literature in major universities and attained different workshops and gatherings about literature in various NGO’s and instutions since 2008.
Following her early poems published in various literary magazines including Varlık, Adam
Sanat
in
1995,
her
first
book
titled
Zamana
Dağılan
Nar,
was
published
in
1999. She received the Cemal Süreya Poetry Award in 2004 with her second book titled Ol!.. Her third book Korkuluklara Giysi Yardımı were published in 2015. Nilay Özer’s literature for children has been publishing by Yapı Kredi Yayınları including Meşe Palamudu Macanda (2015), Uçan Kaçan Bir Pijama Öyküsü (2016), Yara Bandı Fabrikası (2016), Üç Ejder Masalı (2017).
yüzü kelebeklerle örtülü
çiçeklerimi sulamanı istemiştim gömleği buruşuk petunyayı melek tavusa dönüşen begonvili hayvanlarımı doyurmanı istemiştim kanınla sütünle kendi etinle hep bir hayat nakli hasarsız organ nakli aramızdaki
eşyalarını taşırken boşaltırken evimi unuttururken sözlerimi zamana şunu yanıtla demiştim suyun kalbi neresinde neresinde suyun kalbi geçmişin bahçesinde bir taşın oyuğuna gömdüğüm kuş cesedini rüzgâra ver demiştim yapabildin mi hep bir mezar nakli kasıtsız anlam nakli aramızdaki
çelişkiyi benden al bu yokuşu bu düzü bir dağa isim düşünmüş kadar yorgunum çoğu zaman ve oldurmak istiyorum şeyleri bozkırın ortasında soyunup kelebekleri çağırıyorum tenimle gelip örtüyorlar yüzümü her yerimi hep bir rüya nakli uçuşsuz kanat nakli aramızdaki
üzüntünün şeklini almış bir köpek beni öylesine değiştirdi ki yaşayamıyorum eski yüzümle sende dudaklar gördüm iki ayrı denizden ağlayan gözler ne çölde kum sayımı ne ölü dilleri konuşan yağmur sıradan cümleler bağışla bana hep bir imkân nakli hep bir imkân nakli aramızdaki…
her face covered with butterflies
I asked you to water my plants the wrinkled shirt petunia the angel peacock bougainvillea I asked you to feed my animals with your blood your milk your own flesh always a life transplant an undamaged heart transplant between us
emptying my house of your belongings letting time forget my words I asked you to answer this where is the water’s heart the water’s heart where is it a garden of time past the bird I had buried in the hollow of a rock I asked you to hand it to the wind were you able to always a grave transplant an unintended meaning transplant between us
take away the conflict this climb this flatness from me I’m often so tired as if I’ve had to think up a name for a mountain and I want to bring things into being naked on a meadow I lure the butterflies to my skin they arrive to cover my face my entire body always a dream transplant a flightless wing transplant between us
a dog in the shape of sorrow has changed me so much I cannot live with my old face I saw lips on yours eyes that cry two separate seas neit her counting sands in the desert nor the rain speaking in extinct tongues offer me just plain sentences always a possibility transplant always a possibility transplant between us
(Translated by Aron Aji)
incir çatlatan
fig splitters
gidip gelip incirlere bakıyorsun
you come and go checking those figs
dallarda kalıyor gözlerin göz göz
your eyes caught in the eyelets among
şehrin ötelerinden
branches
yıkıntıların ve yağmur piyanosu çatıların üstünden
from the city’s outskirts
gidip gelip incirlere bakıyorsun
above the ruins the rain-piano roofs
yok mu bir olgunlaşan
you come and go checking those figs hasn’t even one ripened yet
incirler kendi sütleriyle kendi içlerini emziriyor
figs suckle themselves
incirler ham yalvaç henüz
feed on their own milk
daha var olgunlaşmalarına
these figs are green mere fledglings
sütten kesilmelerine daha çok var
still time before they ripen plenty of time before they wean
incir ağaçlarının altında neler oluyor sana bir baygınlık.. diz çözülmesi.. hatırlanmayan bir hatıra.. sesler duyuyor gölgeler görüyorsun incir ağaçlarının altında yaşam ve ölüm birbirlerine fısıldayarak senin adını bakıyorlar gözlerinin içine incir çatlatan
güneş kavuruyor kenti herkes kendisinden yorgun başkasından yorgun kum tanelerinin ayırt edilebilir sesi kumsalda dünya konuşuyor mu seninle neler söylüyor bir ormandan çıkıp bir ormana giriyorsun düşünde
incirlere bakıp duruyorsun günlerdir oysa var daha sütten kesilmelerine acılaşıyor ağzının safir suyu
what happens to you under the fig trees this dizziness weakness in the knees a memory unremembered you hear voices see shadows under the fig trees life and death whisper your name to each other they look into your eyes fig splitters
the sun is scorching the city everyone’s weary of himself everyone weary of the other these sounds of sand grains on the shore does the world speak to you what all does it say you walk out of a forest to walk into a forest in your dream
for days you’ve been checking the figs yet there’s time before they wean a sapphire secretion stings your mouth
bakarken bakarken diş çıkartan iştahın
your hunger teething as it craves the fruits
geçiveriyor incirlerin etine
digs into the figs’ flesh
ne zaman başladın
when did you start consuming
senden olmayanı sana kendini sunmadan
what isn’t yours before it offers itself to you
tüketmeye you came you checked the figs geldin.. incirlere baktın.. your gaze tore into the unripe body bakışınla çatlattın olmamışın bedenini.. it used to be firm it’s dried up on the branch sertti kurudu kaldı dalda its milk dripped into the emptiness boşluğa damladı sütü it split open like a breast yarıldı bir meme gibi
gökyüzü hikâyeni bilirdi
the sky has known your story
gökyüzü seni hayatın boyunca izledi
the sky has followed you all your life
bir ağacın ortasında saklanırdın neden
you used to hide yourself in a tree hollow
insan gömüyor ve unutuyor gömdüğü yeri
why do humans bury then forget where they buried
birinden kaçardın kimden
you used to run from someone
seni biri incitmişti memeden kesilmeden
someone had hurt you before you were weaned
incirin sütüne fısıldardın öfkeni
you used to whisper your anger into the fig’s milk
yok ki bir olgunlaşan..
but look
who was it
not even one has ripened
(Translated by Aron Aji)
ASUMAN SUSAM
Asuman Susam was born in Izmir and studied Turkish Language and Literature at Ege University. Her first poems appeared in Milliyet Arts Magazine in 1989, and the Young Poets Anthology of the same year. In addition to poetry, she also writes on literature
and
cinema,
and
her
articles
have
appeared
in
various
magazines.
Her
collection of poems is Kemik İnadı (2015) for which she was awarded the first Ruhi Su Prize for Poetry in 2016. The poet's last published book, is the Placenta(2018). yazı
Bir impalaydık belki sararan otlar afrikasında siz nereden bilecektiniz bir leşyiyici değilseniz.
Sesler birbirine karışırken Dirmit bir taraktan boşalırken sayıklamalar aynı ağızdan fısıldarken o çok yaşlı kadın ve kız çocukluğumuza iliştirilmiş muskalarda içrek sözlerde kaybolmuş, aldatılmış olabiliriz
büyümüş halimizle bir damın tepesinde ufkun sonsuzluğu baskısı üzerimizde biteviye söylenmiş söylenecek yalanlardan yorgun dünyayı bir tablo gibi seyrederiz el ayak çekildiğinde konuşkanlaşır
etraf
bunu bir ikimiz biliriz zamanın içine kaçmış taşları ayıklarız da zamanı parçalara ayıramayız
söz uğultusuyla yükselirken evlerin bacalarından bu dil başkasına nasıl çevrilir sır yoksa söz düşkün hafızanın camına çarpıp çarpıp bir öleydik bu kez
deriz
keçi yolunda yürümek bizim mırıldanma cesaretimiz
önce sesten sonra sözden geçmeliydik o boşboğaz dilbaz lafazan beylik sözden gözümüz değer değmez dünyaya kulak da işitsindi susunca yoktuk hayatta kalmak içindi gevezelik akan çeşmelere konuştuk akşamüstülere ağızdan ağıza uçtuk onunla büyüdük büyülendik
sonra loş bir kitaplığa düştük annemiz bildik onu da kadına yakışmaz dediler Dirmit kitap sizi üşütür sözden öyle alkor yanarken bir şey söylemedik harflerin kancaları vardı karanlıkta parlayan levh-i mahfuzdu, boştu tane tane okunaklı yazıydık yazılıydık artık.
Writing
we may have been the impala in Africa's yellowing grasslands how would you know if you were not a carrion eater
in the intermingling sounds, Dirmit, in the ravings streaming down from a comb in that ancient woman’s whisperings and the girl’s, in the same tongue we may have got lost, deceived among the arcane words in the amulets pinned to our childhood
in our grown-up state on a rooftop pressed down by the horizon with no end tired of the lies told and to be told nonstop our gaze is on the world like a painting it becomes chatty all around us in the dead of night only you and I know this we sort out the stones that have slipped down into time yet cannot break time into pieces
as words rise from the chimneys, humming how can this tongue be translated into another without its mystery the word is disabled hitting against memory's glass pane again and again we say, wish we just died this once walking up the footpath is our courage, murmuring
first we had to go through sound then words those tell-tale, glib, commonplace words the ear had to hear them once the eye touched the world
we didn't exist when silent, chattering meant survival talking to running fountains, to the evenings, we flew from mouth to mouth, we grew up with them, bewitched
then we tumbled into a darkish room of books we knew her as our mother too it doesn't become a woman, Dirmit, they said books will turn you cold like hot coal we flushed and burned with those words but said nothing the letters had hooks that shone in the dark in the ever-sheltered empty book of fortune, singly, one by one, and legibly we became writing itself, ourselves written down.
(TN: Dirmit, in the first line of the poem, is a reference to the young protagonist of Latife Tekin’s autobiographical novel (Sevgili Arsız Ölüm), written in 1981, now a modern classic of Turkish fiction.
Translated as Dear Shameless Death (by Saliha Paker and Mel Kenne, Marion Boyars,
2001), it tells the story of a young girl who grows up struggling in a world full of supersition, under the watchful eye of her mother and the rest of her family.)
sıcak taş
I Avuç içlerim kadar sıcak biriktirdiğim taşlar ağrıyan yerlerine bırakacağım tılsımını taştan bir heykele dönüşeceksin korkarım gözlerini öpeceğim elmacık kemiklerini suyun anlattıklarını dinleyen bir pars olacağım kanımın hışırtısıyla uyutacağım seni barbar diyecekler ama olsun sırf kemik kalacağız yolun sonunda bilge değilim boşuna sözümde durma benim
The Hot Stone
I. the stones i saved hot as the palms of my hands on your aching parts i'll leave them to work in their charm fearing you'll turn into a stone carving i'll kiss your eyes, your cheekbones be a leopard listening to the water's story put you to sleep with the rustling of my blood they'll call me barbarian, never mind at the end of the road we'll be nothing but bone i’m no one of wisdom so don't stand by my word in vain
ormanı okuyorum boş zamanlarımda
reading the forest at my leisure
gövdeye bakıp kökü görüyorum
i look at the trunks seeing the roots
ağaçların yatay serüvenini
the trees in their linear adventure
çayırlarında iyiyim ülkenin
in the meadows of this country I feel good
acı ot topluyorum zor zamanlara
i gather bitter herbs for hard times
şifa olarak duruyorum ağzının kenarında
i stand as healer at the edge of your mouth
ovayı titretip geçiyor yılkı dediğin o tek nefes
that single breath you call a jade horse shoots by,
rüya sanıyorlar onu yeryüzünün nabzı
shaking the plain
bir atın soluk soluğa terlemesi
they think it's a dream, pulse of the earth
aşkın iması say onu genleşen bir şimdi
a breathless horse, drenched in sweat take it as love's implication, present time expanding
II Orda kalsaydı dünya ya da biz atılmasaydık
II
buraya if the world were left out there
or
unutuyorum bunu taş sıcak avcum yangın if we hadn’t been hurled over here ... uyusam diyorum tümseklerinde ovanın i keep forgetting this ... the stone’s hot, my palm’s hatırlamak için sararana dek otlar on fire şarkı gelse, karanlığın kalbindeki oku çıkarsa if i slept in the mounds of the plain, i say, gitsem sonra ben, kuzey rüzgarlarına av olsam to remember till the grass turns pale and dry düşsem kendimden bir hayvan mezarlığına if the song came to pull out the arrow kemiklerin arasında kemik kalana kadar in the heart of darkness, then, if i made ağlasam. my way to be a prey to the north winds, if i dropped my self off in an animals’ graveyard and, till i'm left a bone among bones, wept.
(Poems Translated by Saliha Paker)
ELIF SOFYA
Elif Sofya (Istanbul, 18 August 1965) graduated from Istanbul University, Faculty of Economics.
She
continued
her
masters
education
at
the
Department
of
Business
Administration and Visual Arts at Istanbul Technical University. For a long time he worked on painting and opened exhibitions. He prepared and presented programs on culture, art and politics on a political radio. He worked as a television program editor. His poems and writings have been published in various magazines and joint books.
Poetry books: Reverse Thought (Forbidden, 2005), Irregular (Pan / Heves, 2010), In meinem Mund ein Boomerang (collective; Wunderhorn, 2013), Dik Âlâ (YKY, 2014), and Hayhuy (YKY, 2019).
KUZULAR KUŞLAR
Siz bu ırmaklarda yıkanmadınız Hislenmediniz hiç histerilenmediniz Ne zor şimdi birden bire
hıçkırmak
Savrularak uçmak oradan buraya Ne zor şimdi içinizin açılması Açıklanması göğsünüzdeki o büyük taşın
Sarı sabır zamanlara doğdu çocukluğunuz Buradan hızlanarak geliyor suskunluğunuz Böyle ama böyle işte Derinizin değişmesi mesela
Lambs and birds
Kelimelerin kör kalması dilinizde Bundan işte
You didn’t get washed up in these rivers You didn’t get moved or hysterical
Şimdi sizinle ne yapılabilir Hangi kavgaya girsek Bileğiniz kırılgan ve kaypak Hangi ölüme karşı dursak
So hard for you to hiccup now all of a sudden Flying driven backwards and forwards So hard for you now to lay open Revealation of the big stone in your bosom
Midenizde kuzular kuşlar… Born into times of yellow patience, your childhood To come picking up speed from here, your quietness Like this and just like this Your skin sheds for example Words stay dull in your tongue That’s why
What can be done with you now To which battle we run into Your wrist fragile and unreliable To which death we oppose In your tummy lambs and birds...
(Translated by Nazım Hikmet Richard)
SEVGİLİM
Bana göğsü kör bir kuyu sevgilim Ağzında bir marşın ortası Ellerinde son yüzyılın köşeleri sevgilim İçindeki çizik sanki Çin’den ve Sarı Nehir’den Bana biraz yabancı
My Dear
Giderek uzak bana sevgilim
To me, you are a dark well my dear Bir yıkım krallığı kuruyorsun hızlıca Irmaklara parmakların geçiyor Hidroelektrikleniyor serbestliği suların Kırlara kırılarak dağılırken hayvanlar Dağların derisi yüzülürken Kışkırtılmış kahkahalar boğuluyor yamaçlarımda İçimde ağaçlar ve
In your mouth there is the mid of a march In your hands the corners of this century my dear The scratch in you is as if from China And from the Yellow River A little exotic for me Breaking away my dear
çılgın çalgılarıyla kuşlar yürüyor You build a kingdom of disaster
O anda çiziyorum üstünü Gözlerine bir kış saklayıp güneşe çıkan sahtekâr sevgilim Kimi zaman her şey kolay Her şey mümkün Her şey düz
Your fingers passing through rivers The flowing of water is getting hidroelectrical The animals spreading out to the fields parting While the skin of the mountains being scalped Agitated laughters get stifled on my slopes Inside me walk trees and Birds with their loony instruments
Thus I draw on you My dear faker you go out to the sun Hiding a winter in your eyes Sometimes everything is easy Everything is possible Everything is simple
(Translated by Nazım Hikmet Richard)
BETÜL DÜNDER
Betül Dünder was born in Istanbul in 1975. She graduated from Anadolu University, Faculty of Literature, Department of Sociology. Her first poem was published in the magazine Varlık. She was found "remarkable" in the 2002 Yaşar Nabi Nayır Poetry Award;
ın
2005
Rıfat
"Jury Special Award". University Identity academic
with
and
her
Ilgaz
thesis
"Being
Award
and
2005
A.
Zekâi
Özger
received
the
She completed her master's degree at Mimar Sinan Fine Arts titled
Representation
study
Poetry
a
in
"Being Poet
Woman
a
Woman
Women
among
after
Poets:
A
among 80".
Poets:
The
Book
of
The
first
Problem
volume
of
Conversations"
of the
was
published by Paradoks yayınları (2013). Her latest poetry book, "A Brief History of Forgetting" was awarded the 2018 Ruhi Su Poetry Award.
She participated in many national and international festivals. Her translated into many European and Eastern languages Yorgunluğu"
(Mayıs
Yayınları,
2005).
"Başka
poems have been
Published poetry books:
Dünyalar
İçinde"
2013) “Unutmanın Kısa Tarihi” (Yitik Ülke Yayınları, 2018)
(İkaros
Ayna
Yayınları,
MAKAS
Soruyorsun güne başlamaların neden böyle yaprakların üzerinde yürür gibi hışır hışır ellerin sürekli topluyor bir boşluğu neden
di yo rum hangi yola başlasam içimde ölümlü bir nefes dönemeçler, patikalar ve kâğıttan evler kendime kılavuz bildiğim kuşlar yangınlara uçuruyor beni oysa beni bütün yolların ortasından başlatmalılar
acının da paylaşımcı bir tarafı var bölüştürüyor kendini zamana ama kalanlardan olmak ne zor sevgilim ve olmayanın kelimeleriyle başlamak güne gördüğüm en son kar henüz erimedi bende çiy taneleridir dilimde tuttuğum ondandır içini soğuturum seni her öptüğümde
diyelim bir an yaşadığıma inandım seni sevince cüret ettim yaban atlara ve çayırlara bir onların yeleleri bir de senin gözlerin düş göremem koşturur dururum kendi içimde
soruyorsun yıldızları saymaktan usanmadım mı diye bir güz ikindisinde durup durup hatırladığım ne
çok zamandır hırçın bir makas duruyor elimde di yo rum kestiği bir kumaş kağıt olmayacak sorma bana sabah akşam çiğnediğim bu gül ne onu yuttuğum gün enime boyuma tüm dikey ve yataylığımla beni de senden kesecek o makas
Scissors
You ask why I start each day like this as if walking through rustling leaves hands forever gathering up emptiness why
I reply When I set out on any road within me are lodged mortal breath, sharp turns, paths and houses of paper The birds I took for guides Merely ferry me to where fires blaze In truth I must be set down in the middle of every road
pain too has its sharing side it portions itself out over time but my love how difficult to be stuck in the ruins starting each day with the words of what’s missing the last snowfall I watched has still to melt within me I hold its dewdrops there on my tongue And that is why you shiver inside whenever I kiss you
let us say loving you I believed I was really alive I dared into the meadows and up onto the wild horses Their manes and your eyes a vision I cannot see but still within I gallop and gallop
you ask if I have grown tired of counting the stars what is it I keep remembering this autumn afternoon
for an age now I have held a surly scissors in my hand sa y ing the cloth it cuts will never be paper do not ask me morning or evening what this rose i chew is for the day I swallow it from my the tip of my down to my toes this scissors will sunder you from me
( Translated by Neil P. Doherty )
İKİ DAĞ ARASINDA
Betül Dünder Rakka’da satmışlar kızkardeşimi elleri kalbinden büyükmüş alanın ağzı ellerinden büyük o kadar olur zaten çiğnemeden yutanın
dün bir serçe gördüm sanki uçarken ölmüş güneş ne zaman terk etti onu nasıl çekiverdi dağlara
ışıksız soğuk
gövdesine dolanmış kardeşimin bir kara sarmaşık Rakka da gök gök değil mi dağ dağ da dağa uçan kuş değil mi
yokluyorum kendimi etim kemiğime geçmiş ruhum akranım çıkmış içimi dolaşıyor acının suyu bu kızlar pazarı değil mi dün bir rüya gördüm sanki celladım üzerimde ölmüş
Between Two Mountains
Yesterday in Raqqa they sold my sister the buyer’s hands bigger than his heart his mouth bigger than his hands the fate of all those who swallow without chewing
yesterday I saw a sparrow dead as she flew when did the sun abandon her how did the lightless cold drag her into the mountains black ivy entangled round the body of my sister
is not the sky in Raqqa the sky the mountain the mountain is not that flying towards the mountain, a bird?
I inspect myself my flesh has penetrated my bones my soul has become my accomplice the waters of pain course through me is this not a market to sell girls In my dream last night I saw my executioner die upon me
I opened my eyes and cast him aside all I had lost was a single finger stuck there in Raqqa between two mountains just as I was showing my sister to God
(Translated by Neil P. Doherty)
ERKAN KARAKIRAZ
Erkan Karakiraz studied “English Language & Education”. He lives in İzmir. He is one
of
the
four
founders
of
“Açık
Şiir
Hareketi”
(Open
Poetry
Movement)
which
turned into ana international movement. His poems and essays were published and have
been
publishing
in
various
outstanding
literary
reviews
and
fanzines
both
in
Turkey and abroad.
He
edited
and
published
the
fanzines
titled
“Yerüstü”
(Overground),
“Şatokilitli”
(The Castle Is Locked) and “Yer Üssü Alfa” (Ground Base Alpha). He still continues to publish “Yerüstü” as a book series, and the adventures of the fanzine “Yer Üssü Alfa” continue. He is still on the editorial board of the literary magazine CazKedisi (JazzCat) which focuses on “poetry and poetry culture”.
His first poetry collection “İçgeçit” (Innerpath) was published by Noktürn Publishing in April 2016 and the second one “Gürült.” (Nois.) was published by KÇP Publishing in December 2018. He continues to write poems, critics, essays, plays and stories. He is also a musician, a video-art director and a performance artist.
varsayım 11: yirmi dokuz mart, 14:34:04
(ah) nasıl bilmem o güvenli kıyıyı? yolun en ümitsiz dönemecinde karşılaştım onunla. ben döktüm o çıplak cennetin çakıl taşlarını, denizini ben kuruttum... ne bu şiirin hammaddesi öyleyse? dil mi? kil mi? susmaksa en güzeli, niye var şiir? susmaları mı taçlandırıyor ele avuca sığmaz sözcükler? toprağa kök salmış mart kedileri, daha dürüst benden
assumption 11: twenty-ninth of march, 14:34:04
(ah) how do i not know that safe shore? i met him at the most desperate bend of the road. i poured the pebbles of that naked heaven, i dried its sea... so what are the basics of this poem? is it the language? or is it the clay? so if the best thing is being silent, why does the poetry exist? do unruly words crown the silences? the march cats rooted in the ground are more honest than me.
varsayım 15: dört nisan, 20:46:58
camgöbeği sarsıntı: iplerle yönetilen... şişe dibi rengi toprak, kıpkırmızı gök kubbe soluduğum havayı bıçaklayan sürgü titriyor elleri gök gürültüsünün kapatma suspus göğü!
assumption 15: the fourth of april, 20:46:58
a cyan shake: ruled by ropes... the earth colored in bottle bottom, a crimson vault of heaven the bolt that stabs the air i breathe the hands of the thunder are trembling don’t cover the mute sky!
(The Poems are trasnlated by Erkan Karakiraz)
ÇAĞLA MEKNUZE
Çağla
Meknuze
(Turkey,
1985)
is
a
poet
living
and
working
in
Istanbul.
She
graduated from Galatasaray University Communication Faculty (2007), served as a reporter, editor and producer for NTV between 2008 and 2011. She was invited to participate
in
the
group
exhibition Young,
New,
Different
in
2014 at
Gallery
Zilberman. Her poetry series The Body of Ave won the notable category of the 2015 Varlık Magazine Yaşar Nabi Nayır Youth Award and was published as a book. Her poems
have
appeared
in
many
literary
magazines,
both
in
Turkey
and
abroad,
including the 2017-2018 World Poetry Almanac, which includes 100 poets from 70 countries. Poetry
The
festivals
Festival,
the
2nd
she
participated
Offline
in
Istanbul
include
the
International
2nd
International
Poetry
Festival,
Nilüfer
the
11th
International Istanbul Poetry & Literature Festival and the Winternachten 2020 in The Hague. She was one of the final laureates entitled to participate in the project Be Mobile-Create Together! and was residing Writers Unlimited in January 2020, in the Hague.
Her poetry is also available in English, Dutch, Croatian, Kurdish and Hebrew
bunca kötülük arasında
seni bekledim ateşböceklerini kafesliyor ipekböceklerini kaynatıyordu insanlar
seni bekledim
Amongst All This Evil
denizden balık çalıyorlardı koyundan kuzu
I have waited for you people caging fireflies
seni bekledim
boiling up silkworms
sirkten kaçan filleri vurdular atları nalladılar
I have waited for you they plundered fish from the sea
seni bekledim
lambs from their ewes
köylerin adı değişti satıldı kız çocukları
I have waited for you they shot runaway circus elephants
seni bekledim
they whipped
their horses
ormanlar yakıldı harlandı ateşe olan açlıkları
I have waited for you village names changed
bunca kötülük arasında
daughters all sold
sevmişiz birbirimizi bunca kötülük arasında seni beklerim beklerim
I have waited for you forests burned hunger burstıng into flames
amongst all this evil somehow we loved each other amongst all this evil I’ll wait for you I’ll wait
(Translated by Claire Ölmez)
oysa tarih yazmadı hiçbir kadın kaşifi
döndüm içime uyudum dünyanın tüm şehirlerini kapanmadı gözlerim güneşi batmayan ucunda gezegenin sonra yetindim alacakaranlığıyla diğer köşenin
geçtim
Yet History Has No Record of Any Woman Explorer
kimi aşk kimi savaş kimi açlık ülkelerini hiçbirinde yadırgamadım yerimi
I returned to my inner self and slept through all the cities of the world My eyes remained open at the edge of the planet
günaydınında tınısı var nicedir konuşulmayan dillerin
where the sun does not set and then sufficed with twilight from the other side
ritmine aşinayız tanınmamış kabilelerin
I passed through lands of love
dünya yuvarlak kanıtıdır bu gece başladığım yerdeyim
of war of famine And never felt out of place
vardığım yerdesin Languages long – forgotten resonate with your ‘good morning’ We recognise the rhythms of unfamiliar tribes
The earth is round Tonight is the evidence I am where I started You are where I arrived
(Translated by Claire Ölmez)
METIN CENGIZ
Metin Cengiz, particularly
poet
on
the
and
writer
problems
was of
born
poetry.
on His
3
May, poems
1953 are
in
Göle-Kars.
translated
into
He
wrote
nearly
40
languages and his book has been published in 13 languagaes. He wrote 18 poetry book and 16 theorical and essay books. He has received numerous prestigious awards in his country and other countries.
AYNI KADER
The Same Fate
Uyuyorum,
I am asleep
Bahçedeki ağaçla aynı kaderi paylaşıyorum.
Sharing the same fate as the tree in the garden
Onun dallarında kuşların hafif uykusu,
On its branches the light sleep of birds
Benim dallarımda gecenin bağışladığı düşünceler. On my branches thoughts the night has bestowed
Uyanıyorum,
I wake up
Akşamdan kalma bir yağmur serinliği düşümde.
In my dream the hungover cool of rain
Dün gece soluğunu tutmuş güneş
Yesterday the sun held its breath
Uyuyor düşüncelerimin gölgesinde.
And slept in the shade of my thoughts
ORADA
There
Biliyorum
I know
Orada, karanlıkta
There in the dark
Deşip duruyor yüreğini
A mole is tearing at your heart
Toprağı alt üst eder gibi bir köstebek
As if it were turning the soil upside down
Gecenin güneşi içinde
In the sun of the night
Alevden atkısını dolamış boynuna
Your scarf of flame round your neck
Yürüdüğün yoldan geliyor
It comes down the road you walk
Ben tıpkı bir gece kuşu gibi
And like some night bird
Acının sağlam ipine bağlıyorum
I bind myself to pain’s sturdy rope
Ve bir muammaya taşıyorum kendimi
To bear myself into some riddle
Burada, karanlıkta
Here, in the dark
Biliyorum, yol ısıtacak kemiklerimi
I know, the road will warm my bones
Beni rüzgâra çarşaf gibi assa da
Even if it hangs me out like a sheet in the wind.
(Poems translated by Neil P. Doherty)
EFE DUYAN
Efe
Duyan(b.
been
invited
readings since
1981, to
and
several
including
in
Turkey)
workshops,
international
2009,
Evenings
İstanbul,
has
poetry
organizations
Turkish
Copenhagen,
Poetry
Word-Express
Project (series of poetry readings in several Balkan
Countries),
Festival,
London
Festival,
Edinburgh
Book
Lodeve
Fair,
Poetry
Book
Berlin
Poetry
Festival,
Riga
Poetry Days, Swiss PEN's Day of Writers in Prison
Meeting
in
Geneva,
Goran's
Spring
Festival in Croatia, Felix Poetry Festival in Antwerp, Writer’s Month Reading Series in Slovakia,
Czechia,
Poland
and
Ukraine,
Mexico City Poetry Festival, Divan: Berlinİstanbul Project, Eurovision Poetry Series in Berlin,
İzmir
Literature
Festival,
Iowa
University International Writers Residency, and
Hurst
Visiting
Professorship
at
St.
Louis University among others.
He gave guest lectures on poetry at Ca-Foscari University, Atlanta University, and George
Washington
University,
affiliated
to
Boston
Massachusetts
University
as
a
short-term scholar.
Some of his poems have been translated into Bosnian, Czech, Chinese, Croatian, and many other languages.His translation works in poetry includes poetry collections of Radu Vancu (Romania), Matthias Göritz (Germany) and Lloyd Schwartz (USA).He co-created
poetry
workshops
along
with
the
Istanbul
Offline
International
Poetry
Festival, Turkish American Poetry Days and Gaziantep International Poetry Festival. He
acts
as
International Carolina.He
the
Turkish
Archives has
been
and
co-editor advisor
included
in
of to
the
Rotterdam Nâzım
Poetry
Hikmet
anthology
of
Foundations’s
Poetry
Turkish
Festival
Poetry
Poetry
in
North
PAPER
SHIP
(Great Britain, 2013), European Poetry Anthology GRAND TOUR (Germany, 2019), and EUROPOESIE – 21st Century Poetry Anthology (Great Britain, 2019).He worked in the editorial committees of literature magazines Nikbinlik (2000-2005) and Sanat Cephesi (2006-2010) and Istanbul Offline Magazine (2016-2019). His critical essay The
Construction
of
Characters
in
Nâzım
Hikmet’s
Poetry
has
been
published
in
2008. He edited a contemporary poetry anthology Bir Benden Bir O’ndan (2010) and is
a
member
Istanbul.His
of
the
poetry
Questions,
2016),
2006).
is
He
editorial
board
collections
Tek
currently
University in Istanbul.
Şiirlik
are
Aşklar
teaching
of
the
Sıkça (One
history
of
acclaimed Sorulan Poem
literature Sorular
Stands,
architecture
at
2012)
magazine
Offline
(Frequently
Asked
and
Mimar
Takas
Sinan
(Swap,
Fine
Arts
BEN DEĞİL
NOT ME
seni öper öpmez
as soon as I kiss you
bir buz parç
an ice floe
giriyor damarlarıma
enters my veins
ve yavaşça erirken
and while melting slowly
dönüp duruyor bedenimin çevresinde
it circulates through my body
tutuyorum nefesimi
I hold my breath
birden duruyor dünya
the world stops
ve bir kahin gibi hissediyorum kendimi
and I feel like a diviner
uzayın karanlığında
in the darkness of space
takımyıldızları canlanıyor
constellations come alive
büyük ayı’nın kuyruğu, aslan’ın gözü
the great bear's tail, the lion's eye
sönmüş yıldızların anıları dökülüyor
the memories of extinguished stars
buruşmuş çarşafın üzerinde
fall on the crumpled sheets
bir boya paletine benziyoruz
we look like an artist's palette
çoktan yeryüzünden silinmiş bir dilde
color names
renk adları
roll out of my tongue
çıkıyor ağzımdan
in a language long erased from the earth
uzanıp bir daha öpüyorum seni
I lean and kiss you again
bu defa
this time
akıyor üzerimden
everything I've known
tüm bildiklerim
flows across my body
akıp gidiyor
and down
evrenin giderinden
the drain of the universe
biliyorum
I know
seviştiğimizi bedenim anımsayacak sadece
only my body will remember we made love
ben değil
not me
( Translated by Aron Aji )
SABAH MİTOLOJİSİ
Morning Mythology
Efe Duyan
the gods were still asleep
daha uyanmamıştı tanrılar
my joy of life
yaşama sevincim
was feeding on
ölüm korkumdan
my fear of death
besleniyordu dust had gathered üzerinde toz birikmişti
on the dreams I told you about
sana anlattığım rüyaların I'd been steering my youth gençliğimi sürüyordum
like pushing a shopping cart
bir alışveriş arabasını
slowpoke, hipshot
ağır aksak iter gibi * * the gods had not yet started daha gündelik
their daily chores
İşlerinde başlamamıştı tanrılar the dreams I didn't tell you about sana anlattığım rüyalardan
I was making into gifts and souvenirs
hediyelik eşyalar topluyordum my morning cheer sabah neşem
was feeding not on people
İnsanlardan değil de
but, strangely, on my fears
Korkularımdan besleniyordu nedense *
* the gods were still yawning the worlds they'd made, some already worn out esniyordu daha tanrılar I had turned to you, was wearing away çoktan eskimişti dünyalarından bazıları but not turning into you sana dönmüştüm ben, eskiyordum ama sana dönüşmüyordum
her rüyanın sonunda
at the end of every dream
beyaz havlular sallıyordu bize
the ants returning from a wedding
bir düğünden dönen karıncalar
waved white towels at us
ve gördüklerim üzerindeki gücüm
and when I woke up
uyanırken
my power over what I had seen
puf birden yok oluyordu
poof, would suddenly disappear
seni seviyordum
I loved you
ama başkalarının
but was feeding on
yalnızlığından besleniyordum
the loneliness of others
*
*
hiçbir şey için
I don't blame you
seni suçlamıyorum
for anything
uzun yola çıkmadık daha bu yaz
we haven't taken a long trip yet this summer
rüyalarımı çabuk unutmaya başladım
I'm starting to forget my dreams quickly
tanrılar
the gods
dayamış ağızlarını yol başlarına
have planted their jaws at road ends
terimizi içiyorlar kahvaltıda
they drink our sweat at breakfast
ilginçtir kanımızı değil!
strangely, not our blood
( Translated by Aron Aji )
NIHAT ÖZDAL
Nihat ÖZDAL was born in Halfeti in 1984. He is a curator and surf coach. He has worked with visual poetry, and has installations exhibits that question the concepts of time and hope through various objects.
His
books
translated
Macedonian, Bulgarian,
Tatar
in
Russian,
(Crimean),
Bosnian,
Italian,
Croatian,
Ukrainian,
Uzbek,
Kurdish,
French,
Arabic,
Shonan,
Sesotho,
Syriac,
Afrikaans,
Setswana,
Sepedi,
Serbian, Armenian, Xitsonga,
Tshisvenda, IsiZulu, IsiXhosa ,Isi Ndebele and Siswati languages.
Books: 2011
Poetry:
Homeros
Google’den Poetry
Önce
Awards,
(2015), and Deri (2017).
(2010
Worthy
–Mehmet of
praise),
Fuat
Young
Kanat
Poetry
İzleri
Awards
(2012),
and
Düğmeler
33°55'09.3"N 8°08'50.2"E
Varoluş çayırlardır. Oysa sesinde dönüşen yönleri, ağaç sanmıştım. Yanıma,
dönmeyeceğimi
sanarak
vardığım
bir
uzaklık
aldım.
Altı
beni
parçalarımdan
taşıran,
sende dudaklarını ısıran bir masal var. Kendini öne süren, geri çekilen, olmayan. Kahramanları erken ölen masallarda gemilerin suçu olmaz. Herkes bir şeyler kaybeder, görüntüyü biçmekten çok göze almakla ilgilenir yürümek. Ayakkabılarını kaybetmedin, onlar yola koyulmak istemediler. Bazen nasılsa dersin, nasılsa üzgün, nasılsa dünya, nasıllar ayakların? Ben rastlantıyla şahin avcısı oldum. Kanadın görünüşünü değiştiren karşılaşmalardır. Masanın üstünde kına ve fal tortuları. Yeniden başlayabilir miyiz hurma çekirdekleri toplamaya? Bu sadece birimizin gitmesi için yeterli olacak…
33°55'09.3"N 8°08'50.2"E
Existence is fields. Whereas I had thought trees those paths that turned in your voice. I took a distance that I attained when I thought you were not returning, to me. There is a fairy tale whose base makes my pieces flood, making you bite your lips. That which asserts itself, recedes, is not. In stories whose heroes die young, ships are free of blame. Everyone loses something, moving forward is more concerned about taking chances rather than reaping images. You did not lose your shoes, they did not want to hit the road. Sometimes you say somehow, somehow glum, somehow world, how are your feet doing? I became a hawk hunter by chance. What changes the apearance of a wing are encounters. Residues of henna and fortune tellings on the table. Can we start picking the stones of date palms again? This will suffice so that one of us leaves...
( Trasnlated by Pelin Batu )
Denizkestanelerinin Ölümü
Aniden gelişen bir buğuyu olduğundan daha pembe göstermeye tutku denir. Pek az şey olur. Alglerle beslenen denizkestanelerinin ölümü dahil! Deriye yönelen güçlükleri meyve tohumlarıyla beslemek; güzelliğin çevresi gibi unutulması zor kuralları
var.
Şakayığın
kokusunu
içine
çekmekle
o
kokunun
içinde
kalmak!
Benliğin
ötesine
geçmek için bize güllerle beraber iki şey bırakıldı deri ve kuşku! Onları toplayarak daha hızlı yayılabiliriz.
Death of Sea Urchins
What we call desire is the endeavour to make pink a sudden formation of mist. Few things become. Including the death of sea urchins that feed upon algae. Feeding seeds of fruit to those difficulties that gravitate towards skin; like the sphere of beauty it has an arduous set of laws that is difficult to forsake. Taking in the perfume of a peony and staying
inside
that
perfume.
To
go
beyond
the
beyond
the
self
we
were
besides roses skin and doubt! We can spread swiftly if we pick them up.
( Translated by Pelin Batu )
left
with
two
things
ERKUT TOKMAN
Erkut Tokman is a Turkish poet, actor,visual artist,editor and translator was born in İstanbul in 1971. He used to live
and work respectively in London,Bucharest,Milan
İzmir and Istanbul where he studied poetry, modern dance and acting yet he currently lives in İstanbul. He used to work as editor for Yasakmeyve-literary review in Turkey and
Levure
Litteraire,
Artfulliving.com.tr
and
Kado,
Nathr
reviews
Tersdergi.com.
He
in
abroad
interviewed
and
Orhan
currently Pamuk,
works
Joyce
for
Carol
Oates, Adonis, Aslı Erdoğan,Knut odegard, Milo de Angelis,Slobodan Dan Paich etc. He is the founder of AÇIK ŞİİR His
poems,
articles,
and
also
avangarde poetry movement based on performance.
short
stories
have
been
published
at
leading
literary
reviews of Turkey such as “Hürriyet Gösteri”, “Varlık”, “Kitap-lık”,“Yasakmeyve”, “Caz Kedisi”, “Akatalpa”, “Özgür Edebiyat”,“Ç.N” etc. since 1996. He took part in poetry anthologies and collective books in Turkey
as well as abroad and participated
literary events and festivals in different countries. He is the president of İntercultural Poetry and Translation Academy of Turkey (IPTAT) and the member of Turkish and İtaly P.E.N -WiPC (Writers in Prison Committee). He was on the advisory board of “Roboski” Human-right’s museum.
His poetry books : “Giden ve Kalan”-1999-Liman ( The Arrivals and Departures Liman Publishing House-1999), “Bilinmezi Dolaşan Ses”-2007-Yitik Ülke ( Strolling
X.
Kıyısında ıslak kumlarıyla Gel-git oynayan Thames
nereye doğru akar
Bulanık sularıyla? Orada bir aktör, Genç bir çiftin Nehrin kıyısında koşmalarını, Bir köpeğin ta uzaklara fırlatılmış Kemiği yaklamak için Kendini suya atışını izler; İşte yaşam kendi güzelliğine akan Bir nehir gibidir şimdi; Sanki herşey yazılmış Bir filmin senaryosudur Hayattan alınma
Hitchcock gibi ben de kuşlardan Sanırım bu kötülükleri, Ah yanılgı bir sanrıdaki o yarasa sarnıçta uyuyan Başımıza zaten ne geliyorsa ah bu kuşlardan, Ah sizi gidi kargalar! Gagalar! Uzatma burnunu bozulmasın aralar! B,i,r de Edgar alan Poe Ölümün kıyısında bir Kuzgun gibi dolaşan Bir de Kuzguncuk’da Can Yücel Ağzı bozuk serkeş karanlığı söyler
X.*
Where Thames runs to While it is playing by its shores Ebb and flow Within its blurred waters? Thereat an actor witnesses Lovers that run along the riverside A dog unleashes itself into waters While trying to catch by its mouth Thrown away bone. That’is how Life become a river flowing through its own beauty As if
a scenerio taken from a film
As in life.
Like Hitchcock I predict all those evils May be emerging from birds an error is a bat in delusion that sleeping in a cistern O whatsoever happens us
from those birds!
O, you rascal crows! Beaks! Do not pry
wrecking the mood!
On the edge of death wandering like The Raven A,l,s,o Edgar Alan Poe Can Yücel in Kuzguncuk** as well As swearing and disobedient as he talks on darkness
**District on the shore of Bosphorus which comes from Kuzgun(Raven) in Turkish. Turkish poetCan Yücel often was resting and writing in the cafe of Kuzguncuk.
XIV.
Metronun tüp geçitlerinde Köşe başlarını Çalgıcılar kaplar; Günü kurtarmak için Penny* toplarlar Her ulustan Birleşmemiş milletlere
XIV.*
On the corners of Undergorund’s tunnels Buskers perform For a penny To save a day All World gets together For helping ununited nations
Yardım için We could not be united either as you know
Biz de birleşemedik biliyorsun Kendi içimizde bile yalnız Tanrı’nın yalnızlığıdır bu biliyorsun Dünya’nın ilk gününden beri Kendinden yoksun, Yoksun bu yüzden işte varken de Varırken de bir hedefe, Dönerken de bir kavşaktan, Atlarken de bir engelin üzerinden Tükenirken de yavaş yavaş yıllarla Ve ölürken de son nefesinde böyle olacak Toprağın altında ve Göklerin üzerinde Ebedi karanlık İnsanlığı sınayacak Günü yeniden kazanmak için Şehirlere döneceğiz yine
While we are
still all alone
As you know this is loneliness of God Since the very first day of World Once even God were not exsisted yet, Perhaps therefore you may exist or
not
While your are still reaching at your targets, Turning a junction , Jumping hurdles Running out by-gone years and ageing Evenif you take your last breath, all will be the same Under Earth Over sky While Eternal darkness Questions Humanity We will return back cities once again to save a day My darling!
Sevgilim! * Two of London Poems were originally written in 2000
and
author.
(
“Şehirlerle
revised
afterwards
Extracted Yanar
from
the
Dünya”/
and
translated
poet’s “The
book
cities
World”-Yasakmeyve poetry series-2017.)
(Poems trasnlated by Erkut Tokman himself)
by
the
called rekindle
ANIL CIHAN
Anıl Cihan was born in İstanbul in 1989. He attanded both primary and middle school in Küçükçekmece, İstanbul. In 2011 he graduated from the Department of Accounting in Uludağ University in Bursa. He now earns his living as a bookseller in İstanbul. His first poems were published in the Şehir Edebiyat literary magazine. These were then followed by poems and interviews with various poets and writers in such Turkish journals as Varlık, Kitap-lık, Sözcükler, Şiirden, Şiiri Özlüyorum, Ecinniler, Mühür, Bireylikler, Hayal.
belki ben bu sabah güzel şeyler duymak istiyorum
şunu iyice anlamanı isterim ki ikinci dünya savaşına katılmayan bir ülke gibisin canımın içi sayıca yetersiz ve her an işgal edilme korkusu içinde olan
nevrimi kaza süsü vererek kırdığım bardaklara sorun yetmezse ellerime sorun herhangi bir kriz anında doların alıp başını gitmesine benziyordu yokluğun (gülmen için değil, gülümsemen için oluşturuldu bu dize) bir ülke nasıl düzelir hiç düşündün mü binnur yastık altında bekletilen hayaller ve argümanlar ne zaman sürülür piyasaya inanmazsın orta asya medeniyetin beşiği değil karın boşluğudur inanmazsın bir uçak ne zaman rötar yapsa sana benzeyen biri gelir aklıma
olgulara güvenen bir kalbim var, sanırım bunu daha önce de söyledim modernizmi meditasyon sanan bir kedim olsun istedim orhan gencebay dinlerken, kohen’e bilet bulmaya çalışan saksı çiçeklerim (kohen ölmemiş miydi yeaaa) katılıyorum yağmura yakalanmak büyük maharet ister, ıslanmaksa cesaret afrika’nın kurak bir kıta olduğunu söylüyor henüz almadığım stekhaus menüm
tekrar edildikçe anlamını yitiren bir şeye dönüşmek üzereyim asla ölmeyen, ölmesi teklif dahi edilemeyen bir dizi kahramanına dördüncü kadehten sonra tersinden yakılmış bir sigaranın bozulan adabına afrika’nın ıslanırken yağmura yakalanmayışına (ki bu bir maharettir ve anlamını yitirmiştir) yanlışınız var ben bu şiirde iki defa afrika demedim – deseydim boğulurdunuz susuzluktan-deseydim büyürdünüz açlıktan koloni latince bir kelimedir diyemedim ama konumuz bu değil, konumuz başka elimin tersi neyi gerektiriyorsa kırdım bütün bardakları nevrime seslendim lozan barış antlaşması! on yılda bir açık alınla çıktığımız klasik meydanlar! cumhuriyetin bilmem kaçıncı galaksi yüzyılı! bütün bunlar hassas olduğumuz noktalar, kabul
ama şunu da bilmeni isterim ki bu dünya artık koskoca bir toplama kampı canımın içi
perhaps I would like to hear some nice things this morning
i want you to understand this clearly my darling you are like a country that kept out of the second word war underpopulated, forever fearing invasion
ask the glass i broke and dressed up as an accident about the colour of my face if that doesn’t suffice, ask my hands, but be sure they won’t give a damn about you your absence was like the dollar as it absconded every time a crisis broke out (this line was forged not for your laugh, but for your smile)
so can a country really be reformed, have you ever considered that binnur when will the dreams and arguments stored under pillows be launched onto the market you won’t believe it central asia’s not the cradle of civilization but a pain in the guts you won’t believe it whenever a plane is late some one like you comes to mind
i have a heart that believes in the facts i think i have said this before i always wanted a cat that mistook modernism for meditation my potted plants’re trying find a ticket for cohen while listening to orhan gencebay (mannnn didn’t cohen die or what?) i agree that getting caught in the rain demands great skill and crying, great bravery the menu i have yet to receive in the steak house says africa is an arid continent
i am about to turn into something that loses its meaning the more it’s repeated a tv soap hero who never dies, whose death they never even consider the poise of a cigarette lit from the wrong side after downing the fourth glass or africa as it’s not caught in the rain but still getting soaked (that too’s a skill but it’s lost its meaning) you’re mistaken i didn’t say africa twice in this poem – if i had you’d have died of thirst, you’d have grown from hunger i could not bring myself to say that ‘colony’ is a latin word but this is not the matter at hand, that is something else entirely what ever the back of my hand needed –i smashed all the glasses calling out to the colour of my face the lausanne peace treaty! the classical squares we sauntered into this decade, our foreheads bared but in whichever cosmic year of the republic, I dunno; all of these are sensitive issues for us, agreed.
i want you to understand this clearly this world is now a huge concentration camp,my one and only.
(Translated by Neil
P.Doherty)
beni nasıl bilirdiniz
çünkü bir mezara çiçek olmaya gidiyorum beni nasıl bilirdiniz
:doğmuş ve doğrulmuş olarak ekmek fırınlarını basan uğur dündar gibi başka nasıl olabilirdi -
aksiyonu bol romantizmi zirve tadında ama iyi bilirdik değil asla
toprakla karşı karşıya kalınan net pozisyonlarda gözyaşını zorlama al da at dercesine savurma – ağlama herkes en az bir defa ölü takliti yapabilir ardımdan #kamboçya #haiti #somali #ruanda
dekoratif güzellik – sömürge sanatı –koltuk rengimizle uyumlu kan gurubu bunlardan bir tane de eve almalıyız balıımmm yaz bir kenera öyle ya bir mezera nasıl çiçek olunur kimseden öğrenecek değiliz soruyorum sana bilim dünyasında büyük tartışmalara yol açan gördüğün her su birikintisini lastik bir asa ile ikiye bölme kudretini kim bahşetti ruhuna – en çok beni anla ben yani orta doğu ’ya bakan içkisi kumarı sigarası olmayan dini bütün pembe panjurlu bir koca ideal mal sahibi beyaz gömleğin altında bembeyaz bir fanila sırılsıklam ama mutlu bir gelecek hayal ediyorum ikimiz için tabii canıımm hiç bilmez olur muyum: bu alemde önce sen sonra son sürat musa
ekranların reyting rekorları kıran dizisi bu topraklara kralım ve ülkem adına el koyuyorum yepyeni bölümleriyle çok yakında oturma odanızda hem teknoloji çok gelişti tazmanya aslında ispanya dünya kupasında final oynamasa – ender gelişen aztek atakları golle sonuçlansa – evet hala iknalardan yanayım sevgilim bir sorun mu var: yaratılan infial süsü: üstü örtülen katliam yok olmanın eşiğinde seni şüpheye düşüren her ne ise bak o konuda haklısın biz de basit goller yedik tazmanya ama ispanya oynadığı o kötü futbolla kupayı hiç hak etmedi sahi metroya binmeden önce sıraya girip medeni görünmeyi japonlardan mı öğrendik trugani*
kalbim kundaklanmaya hazır bir orman gibi duruyor yeni dikilecek binalar için ve ben bir mezara çiçek olmaya gidiyorum hadi söyleyin nasıl bilirdiniz kendinizi
*Son
Tazmanyalıların
cesetlerine
antropologlar
ve
sanat
galericileri
tarafından
bilim
adına
el
konuldu. Tazmanya müzesi son Tazmanya yerlisi olan Trugani’nin iskeletinin gömülmesine ancak 1976’da, Trugani öldükten yüz yıl sonra izin verd
how did you know me?
‘cause I’m am off to be a flower on a grave, how did you know me?
: like some born and risen Uğur Dündar raiding all the bakeries how could it be otherwise- lots of action and the headiest dose of the romantic we knew you to be good but not really
in those clear positions when left face to face with the soil don’t force your tears or scattter them saying take these, throw them away-just don’t cry
Everyone can feign death at least once after I go #cambodia
#haiti
#somalia
#rwanda
decorative beauty_ the art of colonialism- a blood group that matches our sofa set we should get one of those for the house loveeee write that down somewhere yeah like we are not going to learn from anyone how to be a flower on a grave I am asking who bestowed on your soul that power you have, that has led to fierce debates within the scientific community, of being able to split every puddle you come across in two with an elastic wand – unnderstand me the most, me a pious husband devoid of booze, gambling and cigarettes complete with pink blinds the ideal houseowner a brilliant white vest underneath a white shirt i am imaging a sopping wet but entirely happy future for us both
-
of course my love, how could I not know: in this world there is you first
then flat out moses.
the tv series that has broken every screen rating record i am king of these lands and in the name of my country i am seizing them soon back with new episodes in your
sitting rooms
how
technology has developed, tasmania really if spain don’t manage to play in the world cup final- if the rare aztec attacks do actually result in a goal- yes i am still all for persuasion
my love is there some problem: the invented air of indignation; the hushed up slaughter; whatever it is that drags you into suspicion here on the edge of oblivion look in that, you’re right, we conceded some soft goals, tasmania but spain didn’t deserve the cup playing that bad football was it really from the japanese that we learnt to form orderly queues outside the metro just so we’d look civilized trugani*?
my heart is a like a forest waiting to be set on fire so they can erect new buildings on it
and I am off to be a flower on a grave now go on say it, how did you know yourselves?
* The corpses of the last Tasmanians were seized by anthropologists and art galleries in the name of science. The Museuem of Tasmania allowed the corpse of Trugani to be buried in 1976, 100 years after he died.
Bionotes of the translators
Nazım
Hikmet
in
Aron Aji is the director of the MFA in Literary
Leeds, England, in 1973. He graduated from the
Translation Program at the University of Iowa. A
Department
translator
from
the
and completed his MA in Continental Philosophy
works
Bilge
Karasu,
at the University of Warwick. He has translated,
Ferid
among
Literary
of
Dikbaş
Sociology
others,
Flannery
Richard
works
at
of
O'Connor
was
Istanbul
Vladimir
into
born
University,
Nabokov
Turkish,
and
and
Orhan
by
Edgu,
among
Translation
Turkish,
he
has
Murathan
others.
Aji
translated
Mungan
received
Fellowships
in
2006
and
NEA and
2016, and a National Translation Award in 2004
Pamuk and Hrant Dink into English. Since 2007, he
has
taught
at
Communication Management
the
Departments
Design
at
and
Istanbul
Art
Bilgi
of
and
Visual Cultural
University
and
currently teaches the course "Art and Dissidence" at
the
Cultural
Management
Postgraduate
Program. He lives and works in Istanbul.
Saliha
Paker
retired
in
2008
as
a
Professor
of
Claire Ölmez originally
comes
from
Bristol
in
Translation Studies in Boğaziçi University, where
the UK. Based on the Aegean coast of Turkey,
she still teaches a course in the PhD Programme
she
and continues her research in translation history of
proofreader and traveler. Her life is conducted in
Ottoman period. Since 1980s, she has pioneered in
Turkish and English and she is a keen translator
bringing three novels of Latife Tekin, the poems
of Turkish literature.
of Enis Batur, Gülten Akın, Behçet Necatigil and Haydar
Ergülen
translation; Workshop she
she for
to
English
founded
the
Translators
participated
as
a
of
Cunda in
joint
International
Turkish
translator
meetings held in 2006-2016.
through
Literature; the
annual
lives
as
an
international
educator,
Due to her father İnal Batu's career as a diplomat, Pelin
Batu
countries
was
born
in
1968.
He
has
translated various works by authors such as Sir
James
Frazer,
Woody
Allen,
Susan
Sontag, Ruth Rendell, John Stuart Mill, J.D. Salinger, Roald Dahl and Ursula K. LeGuin, and exhibition catalogues for many Turkish art galleries. He lives in Istanbul."
France
school
City and Cem Akas
her
childhood
including
Republic, high
spent
at
at Mannes
Pakistan,
and
the
of
foreign
Cyprus,
Czech
She
School
musical
College
many
USA.
Marymount
pursued
in
and
completed
in New
York
theatre
training
After
starting
Music.
literature and philosophy at New York University, she switched her subject to history and completed it at Boğaziçi University in Istanbul. She made her film
debut
in
1999,
portraying
the
role
of
Circassian Nevres in Harem Suare and has gone on to
act
Batu's
with
several
mother
Nevra
more
films
Batu
is
and
TV
series.
of Albanian descent.
[2][3] Batu
also
co-hosted
Odası (The
Back
a
show
Room
of
titled Tarihin
History)
Arka
which
aired
on HaberTürk with Murat
Bardakçı and Erhan
Afyoncu.
from
she
has
poems.
Interested written,
Her
published
in
in
poetry
translated,
first
book
2003,
of
and by
young
published
poetry
followed
a
many
"Glass"
"The
age, was
Book
of
Winds" in 2009. She left the program in 2011. She has also appeared on the Turkish TV program Yeni Şeyler
Söylemek
Lazım,
a
part
of
the TRT Haber news channel on 25 December 2010, in
which
Stones"
she
read
herself
her
from
poem her
of
"Wind
book.
of
Having
Black
written
poems from the age of eight, on this program she said
that
even
reincarnation
though existed
she she
is
an
atheist,
would
be
if the
reincarnation of the grandfather, Selahattin Batu, as he was also known for his interest in poetry and Dr Alev Adil has been widely published in
whom
she
poetry
also
columnist
anthologies,
international
academic
and literary journals. Adil has reviewed for many
publications
including
Times Literary
a
is
commonly for
the
compared
to.
Batu
was
daily Milliyet newspaper
(2012–2014).[4]
The
Supplement, The
Independent, The Guardian and The Financial Times . Her poetry has been translated into Albanian, Azeri, French, Greek, Lithuanian,
Neil P. Doherty
Romanian
is
her
and
poetry
venues
in
at
Turkish. many
London
She
has
performed
prestigious
including
at
cultural
the
British
a
born
translator in
Ireland
Dublin, in
1972
Hampstead
who has resided
Theatre and at international poetry festivals
in Istanbul since
in
1995.
Musuem,
the
ICA
Cyprus,
and
France,
the
Ireland,
Kossovo,
He
Lithuania, Romania, Turkey and the United
currently
Kingdom.
teaches
Her
art
work
and
multimedia
in
performances have been featured in various
University.
publications
is
and
exhibited
in
museums
a
translator
of Art.
both
& The Archive of Lost Objects (2011)
He
freelance
including Tate Britain ve Baltimore Museum Poetry Books : Venus Infers (2004)
Bilgi
of
Turkish
and Irish poetry.
İdil Karacadağ is a freelance translator
Mark
from Istanbul, Turkey. She has translated
California.
various
the University of Tampa in Florida and his MA in
works
of
contemporary
Turkish
David
literature into English and participated at
Turkish
the
Since
Cunda
International
Translators between
of
Workshop
Turkish
2010-2015.
for
Literature
Her
translations
Wyers
He
completed
Studies
2013
was
he
at
the
has
born
his
BA
and in
literature
University
been
raised
of
in at
Arizona.
translating
Turkish
literature into English as a freelance translator. He has
translated
numerous
novels,
and
his
have appeared in Turkish Poetry Today,
translations of Turkish short stories have appeared
Two
in
Lines,
Aeolian
Visions/Versions,
and Pomegranate Garden.
has
held
Writers His
İstanbul
Los
fellowships
and
boks
and
Black
and
Angeles.
from
Poets
Mountain
chapbooks
are
He &
Institute. A
Turkish
Dictioanry( 1913 Press) and From Being Without press).
Substance
Semi
Circle,
( a
above/ground
chapbook
of
his
translations of the Turkish poet Nurduran Duman, was published by Goodmorning Menagerie.
His
poems
and
translations
can be found in VOLT, Kenyon Review, Witness,
Tammy
Journal,
collections,
journals
and
magazines
published in the US and UK.
Andrew Wessels currently splits his time between
various
Faultline,
Colorado Review, among others.
and
Özgün Eylem Aktaş was born in Ankara in Turkey 1995.
She
studied
İnternational
Relations
at
Universty of Akdeniz in Antalya. She is currently starting her master degree at Universty of Paris on Contemporary
Societies
and
French, English and Turkısh.
doing
translation
to
Visual Arts FEATURED ARTIST : AHMET YESIL
Ahmet painters
Yesil Nuri
(1954) Abaç,
lives
and
İlhan
works
Çevik
in
and
Mersin, Ernür
Turkey. Tüzün
He
from
studied
painting
Anadolu
with
University
Department of Sociology. In addition to art exhibitions in Turkey, he has paintings in important foreign exhibitions mainly in Germany, America, Canada, Netherlands, and United Kingdom. Ahmet Yeşil is a member of the UNICEF International Association of Plastic Arts. So far, he works have been dispalyed in 105 solo exhibitions and 297 group/contest exhibitions. He has received 24 national and international awards.
yaşama dokunmak.2.
insan ve renkler..100x90.cm. tüyb.galeri
160x120.t.ü.y.b.. oil on
soyut.2020
canvas..2019
tarihsiz günlükler.27.undated
Sesler ve İzler - Sounds and marks
7.
diarles..100x85.cm.2015.. oil on
2019. T.Ü.Y.B. Oil on canvas. 85x65
canvas...jpg
cm
Sesler ve İzler - Sounds and marks
6.
2019. T.Ü.Y.B. - Oil on canvas.
küçük mutluluklar üzerine..160x120.cm
90x70.cm
sesler ve izler. 3..2018....85x100..cm.
sounds& marks --sesler ve izler.2..
t.ü.y.b.
2017...160X120.cm.. TUVAL ÜZERİNE KARIŞIK TEKNİK.
sounds& marks..110x100.cm...2016..oil on canvas
Yeşile Gebe Mavi-Green Pregnant
tarihsiz günlükler.5.undated
Blue. 2018. T.Ü.Y.B. - Oil on
diarles..2015.....120x100.cm.t.ü.yb. oil on
canvas. 150x100.cm
canvas
Vol 4- Issue 2
ADVAITAM SPEAKS LITERARY
