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Fall

Days are running up gradually,
Rains are fixing to start
My door was wide open, waited for you.
Why did you run late like this?
 
Green paper, salt, bread on my table.
I drank half a bottle of wine all alone, that I tucked
Away just for you on my pitcher granit
Waiting for you.
Why did you run late like this?
 
However, here, the jammy fruits
Are bedding down their branches, ripe, sharp.
They were going to chuck down without being snatched away
Only if you were late a bit more...
 

In A Prison

I etched your name
on my watch strap with my nails.
You know, there is neither a pocket knife
with an nacrous handle
(they never give to us),
nor a tree that goes up to the clouds.
Maybe there is a tree in the courtyard but
it is forbidden for me
to see the sky above my head...
How many people's home is this place other than me?
I don't know.
I am alone and away from them,
they are all together away from me.
It is forbidden to me
to talk with someone else than myself.
 

Walking

Walking

Deliberating On You

Versions: #1
Deliberating on you is a beautiful, hopeful thing
It's like listening to the most beautiful song
From the world's most beautiful voice...
However, hope isn't enough for me any longer
I don't want to listen to songs no longer,
I want to sing them
 

Letters-06

I watched the Indian Ocean this morning.
I have something to tell you about the oceans:
The ocean watched from the coast is
no different from the Marmara shores.
So, I mean:
Oceans are like great loves, Tulyakova,
they can't be watched,
The ocean should be lived.
 

Sorrowful Freedom

You sell the diligence of your eyes, radiance of your hands, without even tasting
You knead
The dough of all the blessing.
You work for others with all your freedom, you suffer a lot
You are free to make them prosperous!
 
They breathe down your back, the moment you were born,
Windmills of lie work all your life without even
A break,
With your great freedom, you start thinking about conscience finger on your temporal
With your great freedom, you are free!
 
Imagine that you were beheaded,
Your arms are on your sides,
You wander with your great freedom,
You are free to fall out of work!
 
You give your homeland away as if they are the closest ones to you, one day, for example,
They endorse it to America along with your great freedom,
You are free to become an air base!
 
The damned hands of Wall Street get hold of you, one day, let’s say,
You may be sent to Korea, with your great freedom you may be ditched,
Into a hole, you are free to become an unknown soldier!
 
You say that we shouldn’t live like a tool, a number but like a human,
They collar you with your great freedom,
You are free to get caught, be imprisoned even be blessed the world
With your heels
 
There is neither wood, nor wood or tulle curtain in your life, you don’t need to choose
The freedom since you are free.
 
This freedom is a sorrowful thing under the star
 

In Istanbul, In The Prison's Courtyard

In Istanbul, in the prison courtyard,
on a sunny winter day, after the rain,
the clouds, the red tiles, the walls and my face
while moving on the ground and in puddles,
I, thought of the world, my homeland and you,
while I carry:
all the braveness, lowness,
strongness, weakness of my soul...
 

Longing/Saudade

Versions: #1
Its been a Century not seeing your face,
not wrapping around your waist,
not resting in your eye,
not asking questions to the brightness of your wisdom,
not touching the warmth of your abdomen.
 
For a Century waits for me
a woman in one city.
 
We were on the same branch of a tree, on the same branch.
We fell off the same branch and were torn apart.
Between us, a Century of time,
a road of a Century.
 
Its been a Century in the twilight
that I have been running after her.
 

Farewell My Brother Sea

Versions: #2
Here we are, we go
Farewell my brother Sea
We took some of your pebble
A little bit of your blue rich salt as well
Also a little bit of your everlastingness
A little bit of your gleam as well
A little bit of your grief as well
You gave some voice to us
About being a sea's destiny
We're full of hope a bit more
We mended our ways a bit more
Here we are, we go
Farewell my brother Sea
 

About Living 3

this world will cool down,
a star among the stars,
one of the smallest ones,
just a grain of star in the blue velvet,
so, this is our big world.
 
this world will cool down one day,
not even like a pile of ice
or a dead cloud,
it will roll like an empty walnut,
in the eternal pitch darkness.
 
the pain of this will be felt already,
this sadness will be felt already.
this is how this world will be loved
so that, you can say 'I lived'...
 
1948
 

About Living 2

imagine, we are very serious patients about to have surgery,
so, there is also the possibility of not getting up from the white table again.
even if it's impossible not to feel the sorrow of going early
we will still laugh at the Bektashi anecdote*,
we willl look out the window to see if it's rainy
or we will wait impatiently
the latest agency news
 
imagine something worthy to fight for,
imagine we are in the frontline
there, in the first attack, just that day
it is also possible to fall face down and die
we will know this with a strange grudge,
but still we will wonder like crazy
the end of this war that maybe will last for many years
 
imagine, we are in jail
and our age is close to fifty,
imagine, this iron gate has eighteen years to open.
we will still live with the outside,
with its people, animals, fight and wind
so, with the outside that behind the wall
 
so, no matter how and wherever we are
we will live as if we will never die...
 
1948
 

Some Advice to Those Who Will Serve Time in Prison

If instead of being hanged by the neck
you're thrown inside
for not giving up hope
in the world, your country, your people,
if you do ten or fifteen years
apart from the time you have left,
you won't say,
'Better I had swung from the end of a rope
like a flag' -
You'll put your foot down and live.
It may not be a pleasure exactly,
but it's your solemn duty
to live one more day
to spite the enemy.
 
Part of you may live alone inside,
like a tone at the bottom of a well.
But the other part
must be so caught up
in the flurry of the world
that you shiver there inside
when outside, at forty days' distance, a leaf moves.
To wait for letters inside,
to sing sad songs,
or to lie awake all night staring at the ceiling
is sweet but dangerous.
 
Look at your face from shave to shave,
forget your age,
watch out for lice
and for spring nights,
and always remember
to eat every last piece of bread-
also, don't forget to laugh heartily.
And who knows,
the woman you love may stop loving you.
Don't say it's no big thing:
it's like the snapping of a green branch
to the man inside.
To think of roses and gardens inside is bad,
to think of seas and mountains is good.
Read and write without rest,
and I also advise weaving
and making mirrors.
I mean, it's not that you can't pass
ten or fifteen years inside
and more -
you can,
as long as the jewel
on the left side of your chest doesn't lose it's luster!
 

Would You Know What Being Offended Means?

Versions: #1
Would you know what being offended means?
Being offended is righteousness
It's dewey-eyed and hence it's intemerate
It ain't pork pies
Being offended is 'I love you'
It means standing your ground
Being offended defines me
It's 'I got angry but still here', it's 'I wasn't walking away' , it's 'I can't walk away'
Being offended is playing hard to get, feeling close, it's 'You're jewel to me'
Being offended means 'Tell me that you love', it means 'Come on, get it!'
Being offended is hope, finalizing the I wonder ifs, feeling certain.
 
So, this is all to say:
I'm offended at you!
 

Man Unbearable

Versions: #1
I turned into 'Man Unbearable'
Sleepless, contrary, damned
Like cursing you
Like taming beast
I work that day
Later on
A lazy song upon my lips like a dingy cigar
Whole day I lay aflat
And that abashes and enrages me
Mercy and hatred I feel for myself
I turned into 'Man Unbearable'
Sleepless, contrary, damned
I'm wrong as always
There's no reason, impossible to be
Thing I've done is fucked up
But I can't help myself
I envy thee
 

Walnut Tree

Head of mine's bubling cloud
Inside-out a sea
I'm a walnut tree in Park Gülhane
Great and marvellous I'm a walnut tree
Neither you nor cops are aware of it
 
I'm a walnut tree in Park Gülhane
My leaves are like fish in the water
My leaves are like silken kerchief
Wipe your tears out, rose of mine
My leaves are my hands, one-hundred-thousand I've got
I touch you with my one-hundred-thousand hands, I touch Istanbul
My leaves are my eyes, I stare flabbergastingly
I watch Istanbul and you with my one-hundred-thousand eyes
My leaves beats like one-hundred-thousand hearts, my leaves do
 
I'm a walnut tree in Park Gülhane
Neither you nor cops are aware of it
 

To Vera

Versions: #1
She told me to come
She told me to stay
She told me to smile
She told me to die
I came
I stayed
I smiled
I died
 

Cold Outside

Versions: #1
Foggy outside, cold
Glens are mere red
Straw yellow, dead green
Winter's 'bout to be here whenas
The heart's not 'bout to get into winter
 

The Great Humanity

Great humanity is a passenger on the board
A passenger on a train
Afoot on causeway
The great humanity
Great Humanity goes work at 8 o'clock
Gets married in her twenties
Dies in her forties
The great humanity
 
The food is enough for everyone but for the great humanity
So is rice
So is sugar
So is cloth
So is book
All of 'em are enough but for the great humanity
 
There is no shadow on the lands of the great humanity
No streetlight
No windows
But the great humanity possesses the hope
It is impossible to love without hope!
 

Poems Written For Piraye - 13 Nov 1945

It can't be even imagined, they say, the miserables of Istanbul,
Poors of her, they say, poverty destroyed
tuberculosis, they say, they all are knee-deep
Poor girls, they say
At the fireplaces, in the lodges of cinema
 
The black news is coming from my city afar
Honourable, industrious, the city of poors
My dead serious Istanbul
My beloved, the place which is yours
Wherever I'll be exiled, no matter in which jail I do my time
On my back, it's in my heart, which I carry them in my bag
That's like a grief of losing a child
The city which I carry in my eyes just as I dream of you
 

Hope

Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons rise
And the dustcart gathers
The corpses from the sidewalks
The corpses of unemployed and hungry workers
 
Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons pass
While the sun rises, the peasant family
Man to woman, donkeys and the plows
Donkeys and women ploughs the plow
Tills the soil, can be hardly called soil
 
Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons pass
A child dies while the sun rises
A Japanese boy dies in Hiroshima
Twelve years old, numbered
Neither by chincough nor meningitis
He dies in the year of 1958
A Japanese boy dies in Hiroshima
Just because he was born in 1945
 
Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons pass
While the sun rises a chubby man
Gets up from his bed and dressing penisvely
'Who should be ratted on
How to find favour in supervisor's eyes'
 
Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons pass
While the sun rises the black driver
Gets hanged on the edge of road
Gets him burned with covering him with paraffine
Later on, some of them goes to drink cofee
Some of them get shaved in barber
Some of them open their workplaces
Some of them kiss their girlfriends in their foreheads
 
Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons pass
While the sun rises, the convict woman
Got tied up and lain back
Her bare breasts covered with blood
She gets inquisitioned in a basement
One of them is twenty, the other one is sixty
Their shirts are sweaty and arms embarked
And the sandbags and electrods
 
Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons pass
While the sun rises upon the leaf of rose
From plane areas the silent pilots
Loads the 'H' bomb to the jet-propelled planes
While the sun rises, while the sun rises
Students and workers got massacred with automatic guns
Acacia trees of the avenue
Windows, vases in the balcoonies
While the sun rises, the politician
Returns his mansion from a feast
While the sun rises, birds sing
While the sun rises, while the sun rises
A young mother breasts her baby
 
Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons pass
While the sun rises, I just passed a sleepless
And a long night
With the aches
I'm the one who thought about the death which is missed
I'm the one who thought about you and my homeland
You, homeland and our world
 
Run, atomic reactors run
While the sun rises, human-made moons pass
And while the sun rises, isn't there any hope?
Hope, hope, hope... Hope is inside.
 

Letters-03

Today is wednesday:
-you know-
It is Çankırı's bazaar.
Passing through our iron gate
they will come to us, in our reed basket
eggs, wheats,
gilded, purple eggplants...
 
Yesterday, I watched those who came down from the villages:
they were tired,
crafty
and suspectful,
and there was sorrow under their eyebrows.
Men passed on top of the donkeys,
women passed on their bare feet.
I guess there is someone you know among them.
I guess in the bazaar on two wednesday:
with red scarf
they are looking for 'the modest' from Istanbul...
 

Poems Written For Piraye 18 Oct 1945

Just about to meet death while quitting the gate of tower
While we look back at the city
My beloved, we can say
'Even if it didn't make us that happy
We tried as much as we can
Just to
Make you happy
Thus your way to happiness is continuing
Life goes on
We are set at ease
With saturity in our hearts
The sorrow of leaving you in my eyes
The way she goes
May god bless you the city of Aleppo
 

Poems Written For Piraye 23 Sep 1945

What is she doing now
Right now, at the moment?
Is she at home or street?
Is she working, is she lying or standing
Maybe she raised her hand
Ye, my rose
How does your white bare arm do this move?
 
What is she doing now
Right now, at the moment?
Maybe a kitty is on her lap
Perhaps she is cherishing
Might be she walking, might be about to take her step
Dear feet of her that take her to me
In every darkest day of mine
What is she thinking
Me?
Or
What should I know
Should I know the reason why beans is not getting cooked
Or, should I know why the most of people
Are starcrossed
 
What is she doing now
Right now, at the moment?
 

We

A man stands all alone on a tower
Millions of buttons in front of him
Whenever he push one of the buttons
One of us either raises his arm
Or kills him
Or pees
 
Bullshit a bullshitter
We bullshit our country
 
We murder the ideas by fire
You are not allowed to think
You are not allowed to think that you are not allowed to think
 
We got a remedy
Whenever we inject
We can make him say everythink we want
 
We eat human flesh
Too delicious with chickpea
 
We are addicted to whip
 
Hang your hat on the door
Come inside
Bang our wives
We will leave as soon as we
See the hat on the door to not disturb
 
Our children
Are tagged on their butts
They grow in bastard-asylum
 
Before going to sleep
Check the bottom of pillow
One of us might be in there
 
Recently an eclipse happened
That bullshit was done by us
With the power of propaganda
 
It's best to hang us
To cut us
To imprison
To nuke
 

Children May Die, Tomorrow

Children may die, tomorrow
Neither by malaria nor diphteria
Not by falling into abyss
Children may die, tomorrow
Children may die like bearded soldiers
Children may die, tomorrow, beneath the lights of nuke
Neither an inch of bone nor a blood drop
Children may die, tomorrow, beneath the lights of nuke
Without even leaving an ash,
Without leaving anything but their shadows, children may die
 

Watch the leaves fall

To watch the leaves fall tears me up inside
especially the leaves on avenues
especially if they're horse chestnuts
especially if they pass by children
especially if the sky is clear
especially if I have had, that day, good news
especially if my heart, that day, didn't pain me
especially if I believe, that day, that who I love loved me too
especially if that day I felt alright with men and with
myself
to see the leaves fall tears me up inside
especially if the leaves on the avenues the avenues are horse chestnuts.
 

Invitation

Galloping from Far Asia
and stretching into the Mediterranean like a mare
this country is ours.
 
Bloody wrested, teeth clenched, feet bare
and this soil a silk carpet,
this hell, this heaven is ours.
 
Shut the gates, don't let them open again,
destroy man's servitude to man,
this invitation is ours.
 
To live like a tree alone and free
and in brotherhood like the forests,
this yearning is ours.
 

The Little Girl

Versions: #3
I'm the one knocking your doors
The doors one by one
I can't be seen by your eyes
Dead people cannot be seen by your eyes
 
Since i died in Hiroshima
Some decades had passed
I'm a seven year old girl
Dead children cannot be grown up
 
My hair caught fire, first
My eyes burnt evaporated
I became a handful of ashes
My ashes thrown into the air
 
(There is nothing I want of myself from you
The child who burns like a paper cannot eat even candy)
 
I'm knocking your doors
Uncle, aunt, grant me a signature
Children should not be killed
They could eat candy, too
 

The matter of Tahir and Zuhre

It is not a shame to be a Tahir* or a Zuhre**
as well it is not a shame dying for love, too.
The whole thing is capability of being Tahir and Zuhre
in short, is the heart.
 
For example as fighting at a barricade
for example as going to explore the north pole
for example as trying a serum in your veins
is it a shame to die?
 
It is not a shame to be a Tahir or a Zuhre
as well it is not a shame dying for love, too.
 
You love the world at a rattling pace
but it is not aware
you don't want to leave it
but it will leave you
so, if you love the apple
is the apple have to love you back?
I mean, if Zuhre doesn't love Tahir anymore
or if she never loved
What Tahir loose from being Tahir?
 
It is not a shame to be a Tahir or a Zuhre
as well it is not a shame dying for love, too.