Friday, November 04, 2005


Now that the Ramadam has finished...words from Turkish poets to pass on to friends...

From Nazim Hikmet: extracts -

'All around us are the glittering sidewalks
of a marvellous night

and the steps of brave new human beings
singing brave new songs.’

'The best sea has yet to be crossed.
The best child has yet to be born.
Our best days have yet to be lived;
and the best word I want to say to you
is the word I have not yet said.'

'How good it is to be blind,
how good to love darkness.
No light like a flashing sword
nor the weight of colours
nor swarming shapes...
How good it is to love the darkness.'

From Orhan Veli:

'I woke up one morning;
the sun came up in me;
I turned into birds and leaves;
they glittered in the spring breeze;
I turned into birds and leaves;
my arms and legs were rioting;
I turned into birds and leaves,
And leaves.'

1 comment:

JoA said...

Just a small (yet long) contribution by lale muldur:

"a babylonian water goddess perhaps she is...turquoise...mutable...
white seashell woman...with her seven stars and her astral twin...
Linga Sarira...before she started to offer the elixir of life
how many iris years have thus passed...a black and white butterfly
is her soul...she reads the alphabet of the river’s passing...aqua...
floods and vapors long to return to their sources...
the rainbow bridge sketches the promise of a new era...
a star the synthesis of water and fire... far away...
farther away... dies shine...
tiger and mercury...from a celestial channel... from a celestial channel...
will learn faith...will learn...
a black and white butterfly taps on her window . hullabaloo .
a bird flying diagonally .
birds whose courses cannot be foreseen .
in scattered helixes heading somewhere .
two submarines.
cool fearsome and indifferent .
uncanny leaden shadows. shade-marked attributes .
it’s not the year for the emergence and appearance of attributes.
it’s the year for the emergence of their shadows.
two submarines.’ leaden shadows . lead .
the frightening analysis of black and white . lead .
a soldier carrying herbal roots .
a girl seeking water crying .

between two clouds . two islands . convergencies .
convergencies between . between the convergencies
mirror conversations . in amazement and horror .
those brought face to face . half opening
seagulls of elegance swallowed stones like weeping angels. turn .
ing slowly around themselves . passing through walls .
like fish dragged sluggishly out of water .
like fragile seagulls turned to stone we are crying night after night .

I know now who the albinos are .
and that they don’t cry .
to write to erase to destroy to create I was born . or so I think .
poles and twins . unite . d not yet .
does this scare you .
and yet scripts are being e .r .a .s .e .d . books destroyed .
if I now told you something that’s been said over and over .
like everything is one .
you’d laugh at me .
this does not scare me .

mirror-like crags show shadows of flying birds .
the summits are covered with clouds .
probably rain is falling somewhere above .
the last birds fly crosswise .
I know you are t(H)ere . waiting for me (H) .
the tune you send me from (O)rissa .
this hot breath .
hits me and returns to Him ...H...two...O
these...the things that could happen between us...
they form a single definite line . a
w i s e flight .
a flight that could terrify .
I know this and I fear...