Masa da Masaymış Ha! -What a Table it was! (Translation)

(Edip Cansever, 1928-1986)

MASA DA MASAYMIŞ HA

Adam yaşama sevinci içinde

Masaya anahtarlarını koydu

Bakır kâseye çiçekleri koydu

Sütünü yumurtasını koydu

Pencereden gelen ışığı koydu

Bisiklet sesini çıkrık sesini

Ekmeğin havanın yumuşaklığını koydu

Adam masaya

Aklında olup bitenleri koydu

Ne yapmak istiyordu hayatta

İşte onu koydu

Kimi seviyordu kimi sevmiyordu

Adam masaya onları da koydu

Üç kere üç dokuz ederdi

Adam koydu masaya dokuzu

Pencere yanındaydı gökyüzü yanında

Uzandı masaya sonsuzu koydu

Bir bira içmek istiyordu kaç gündür

Masaya biranın dökülüşünü koydu

Uykusunu koydu uyanıklığını koydu

Tokluğunu açlığını koydu.

Masa da masaymış ha

Bana mısın demedi bu kadar yüke

Bir iki sallandı durdu

Adam ha babam koyuyordu.

EDİP CANSEVER

WHAT A TABLE IT WAS!

The man, with joy of life,

Put his keys on the table

The flowers in the copper bowl

His milk and eggs

The light seeping through the window

The bike sound and the sound of the spinning wheel

The softness of bread and air

The man put them all on the table

What was going on in his mind

What he wanted to do in life

He put them all

Those he loved and those he didn’t love

The man put them all on the table

Three times three was nine

The man put nine on the table

The window was near him, and the sky too

He reached out and put infinity on the table

He had wanted to drink a beer for days

He put the pouring of beer on the table

He put his sleep and his wakefulness

His fullness and hunger

What a table it was!

Showed no reaction to all this load

It swayed a bit and stopped

The man kept putting and putting nonstop

Translated by Rukiye Uçar

Acılara Tutunmak – Holding on to Pain (Translation)

(Hasan Hüseyin Korkmazgil, 1927-1984)

 

ACILARA TUTUNMAK

“acı çekmek özgürlükse

özgürdük ikimiz de

o yuvasız çalıkuşu

bense kafeste kanarya

o dolaşmış daldan dala

savurmuş yüreğini

ben bölmüşüm yüreğimi

başkaldıran dizelere”

(…)

Hasan Hüseyin Korkmazgil

 

HOLDING ON TO PAIN

If feeling pain is freedom

We were both free

She was a homeless goldcrest

I was a canary in a cage

She travelled from branch to branch

Hurling her heart out

I divided my heart

Into rebellious verses.

(…)

Translated by Rukiye Uçar

Attila İlhan (translation)

SAKIN HA

sabiha bu adamlar beni alıp götürecek

sakın ha ağlamanı istemiyorum

soracakları varmış yıllardır sorarlar

anlaşılan bu sorgu daha yıllarca sürecek

ilk götürülüşümü bak hatırlıyorum

sendikaya yazıldığım günlerdi sanıyorum

otomobil farlarına yağmur yağıyordu

cıgaram ıslanmış sokaklar nedense dar

bu defa aksi gibi zilzurna ilkbahar

çocuğa bir şey söyleme sabiha belli olmaz

sakın ha ağlamanı istemiyorum

bakarsın çabuk biter akşama evdeyim

uzayacak olursa git hüseyin’i bul

eli kızıl kanda olsa bizi bırakmaz

çantamı hazırlarsın pijamam terliklerim

izin verirlerse seni de beklerim

hani bir gülümsemen vardır sanki istanbul

gözlerin gözlerimi bulur bulmaz

içimde bütün şehir atlı karınca gibi

döner ha döner ışık renk ve pul

hay allah bu ilkbahar beni öldürecek

rüzgardaki kokular dudaklarımdaki tuz

bu adamlar sabiha beni alıp götürecek

günlerden cuma sabah saat dokuz

sakın ha ağlamanı istemiyorum

paran var mı yok mu bilemiyorum

al şu yüz lirayı yanında bulunsun

yüz de bana kalıyor varımız yoğumuz

çocuğa bir şeyler al onunla avunsun

beyler ben hazırım haydi gidiyoruz

sabiha unutma seni bekliyorum

ATTILA ILHAN

DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Sabiha, these men will take me away

I don’t want you to cry, do not even think about it

They have been asking for years

It seems this interrogation will last for many more years

I remember the first time they took me away

I think it was when I joined the labour union

It was raining on the headlights

My cigarette was wet and the streets were strangely narrow

This time, just my bad luck, it is spring all over

Don’t tell the kid anything, you never know

I don’t want you to cry, do not even think about it

It may end quickly, who knows, and I am home tonight

If it takes long, go find Hüseyin

He would never leave us alone no matter what

Prepare my bag, my pajamas and slippers

If they allow it, I will wait for you, too

You know you have a smile that feels like Istanbul

When your eyes meet mine

The whole town, like a carousel inside me,

Goes round and round, lights, colours and sequins

Oh dear! This spring will kill me

The smells in the wind, the salt on my lips

These men will take me away, Sabiha

It is Friday, 9 o’clock in the morning

I don’t want you to cry, do not even think about it

I don’t know if you have money

Here is a hundred liras, you may need it

I have a hundred left, all that we have

Buy something for the kid, let him soothe himself with it

Guys, I am ready, let’s get going

Sabiha, don’t forget I will be waiting for you

Translated by Rukiye Uçar

A Poem by Nazım Hikmet – Slavya Kahvesinde Şair Dostum Tavfer’le Yarenlik (Conversing with my Poet Friend Tavfer in Cafe Slavia)

Slavya Kahvesinde Şair Dostum Tavfer’le Yarenlik

Slavya kahvesinde dostum Tavfer’le
Viltava suyuna karşı oturup
Tatlı tatlı yarenliği severim.
Hele sabahları hele baharda.
Hele sabahları hele baharda
Konuşurken dalar dalar gideriz,
Bir yitirir, bir buluruz birbirimizi
Hele sabahları hele baharda
Prag şehri yaldızlı bir dumandır
Ve kızıl kocaman bir elma gibi
Nezval geçer taze çıkmış kabrinden.
Paramparça yüreciği de elinde
Ve Orhan Veli ile karşılaşırlar
Urumelihisarı’ndan gelir o
Ve telli kavağa benzer Orhan’ım
Yüreciği delik deşik onun da.
Biz de aynı loncadanız biliriz Tavfer
Zanaatların en kanlısı şairlik
Sırların sırrını öğrenmek için
Yüreğini yiyeceksin, yedireceksin.
Prag şehri yaldızlı bir dumandır.
Viltava suyunun köpüklerine
Martı kuşlarıyla gelir İstanbul.
Lejyonerler köprüsüne gidelim Tavfer,
Martı kuşlarına ekmek verelim.

Nâzım Hikmet

26 Nisan 1958, Prag

TRANSLATION:

Conversing with my Poet Friend Tavfer in Cafe Slavia

I enjoy conversing pleasantly
With my friend Tavfer in Cafe Slavia
Sitting across from the Vltava River.
Especially in the morning, especially in the spring.
Especially in the morning, especially in the spring
We are lost in thought while talking
First losing and then finding each other
Especially in the morning, especially in the spring.
The city of Prague is a gilded haze
And like an enormous red apple.
Nezval passes by, coming out fresh from his grave
With his shattered heart in his hands
And runs into Orhan Veli
He is on his way from Urumelihisari
And resembles a trembling poplar, my Orhan
His heart is full of holes, too.
We are from the same guild,
We know it Tavfer
Being a poet is the bloodiest of all the workmanship.
To learn the secret of the secrets
You will eat your heart and feed it to the others.
The city of Prague is a gilded haze.
Istanbul comes with the seagulls
To the foams of the Vltava River.
Let’s go to the Legion Bridge, Tavfer
And feed bread to the seagulls.
Nâzım Hikmet
April 26, 1958, Prague
Translated by Rukiye Uçar

Notes to the Reader:
*Nazım Hikmet (Ran) (1902-1963) was a prominent Turkish poet
and writer who spent the last 12 years of his life in exile
due to his political views. He was denationalized in 1951 and
forced to leave Turkey. He died in Moscow in 1963 with
a deep longing in his heart for his homeland.
*The Vltava is a river flowing through the center of Prague,
the Czech Republic.
*Cafe Slavia (Kavarna Slavia) is a cafe in Prague, where
Nazım Hikmet would sit and write his poems. If you visit the
cafe, you will see a portrait of him on the wall along with
the portraits of other poets and writers.
*Nevzal (Vítězslav Nezval) (1900-1958) was a Czech writer
who died of a heart attack two weeks before Nazim Hikmet
wrote this poem in 1958.
*Orhan Veli (Kanık) (1914-1950) was a Turkish poet who died
at a very young age in 1950.
*The Legion Bridge is one of the bridges over the Vltava
in Prague.
*Urumelihisarı (Rumeli Hisarı) is a fortress by the Bosphorus
in Istanbul, Turkey, and it is also the name of the area where
the fortress is located.

From “Ben Ruhi Bey Nasılım?”

It has been a long while since I last posted a poetry translation. So, here comes a new one! 🙂

He pays if he has money

If not, he just leaves not saying a word

Then he has a pocket watch; he checks it every now and then

But I know he has nothing to do with watches

Ruhi Bey has nothing to do with time anyway

He always wears the same clothes

He takes off his jacket in the summer

His tie is thin as string

I have never looked at his feet

His face is so interesting I don’t know if he has feet.

Edip Cansever, from “Ben Ruhi Bey Nasılım?”, translated by Rukiye Uçar

BİTTİ O SEVDA

That Love is Over...

That love is over, the cries of the seagulls have stopped
It is over like the water, over like against the water
The thing that we call the sea has pushed the coast away
We both forgot all sorts of discontent
My eyes lost in gambling
Her eyes lost in gambling.  

It is as if the woods got windy in our chest
The trees moved away from each other
The trees moved closer to each other
That is, every time we breathe
Your heart, like a shuttle
My heart, like its shuttle
Processed this absence again and again.

What's left
I don't know if you are aware
The days...
The days have gotten smaller. 

*Translated by Rukiye Uçar...

Bitti O Sevda…

Bitti o sevda kesildi çığlıkları martıların
Su gibi bitti, suya karşıt gibi bitti
İtti kıyıyı adına deniz dediğimiz şey
Unuttuk ikimiz de her türlü yetinmezliği
Kaybetti kumarda gözlerim
Kaybetti kumarda gözleri.

Bir koru rüzgarlandı göğüs boşluğumuzda sanki
Uzaklaştı ağaçlar birbirlerinden
Yakınlaştı ağaçlar birbirlerine
Yani her soluk alıp verişimizde bizim
Bir mekik gibi kalbin
Bir mekiği gibi kalbim
İşleyip durdu bu yitikliği yeniden.

Ne kaldı
Farkında mısın bilmem
Gündüzler…
Gündüzler biraz azaldı.

-Edip Cansever (1928-1986)

Nazım Hikmet – Traitor (Vatan Haini Şiiri)

Traitor

“Nazım Hikmet is still continuing his treason.

We are a semi-colony of American imperialism, said Hikmet.

Nazım Hikmet is still continuing his treason.

These all appeared in an Ankara newspaper, over three columns, in a streamer screaming pitch black.

In an Ankara newspaper, next to the photograph of Admiral Williamson

Smiling in a 66 centimetre frame, overjoyed, American admiral

America granted 120 million liras to our budget, 120 million liras.

“We are a semi-colony of American imperialism, said Hikmet

Nazım Hikmet is still continuing his treason

Yes, I am a traitor to my nation, if you are patriots, lovers of your land, I am a traitor to my land,

I am a traitor to my nation.

If the nation is your ranches,

If what is inside your safe and check book is the nation,

If the nation is to die of hunger along paved roads,

If the nation is to shiver like a dog in the cold, and writhe with malaria in the summer,

If your drinking our red blood in your factories is the nation,

If the nation is the nails of your landowners,

If the nation is a lancer catechism, if it is a cop’s club,

If your allowances, your salaries are the nation,

If the nation is American military bases, American bombs, American fleet cannonballs,

If the nation is to not be freed from our rotten darkness,

I am a traitor to my nation.

Write over three columns, in a streamer screaming pitch black:

Nazım Hikmet is still continuing his treason.

-Translated by Rukiye Uçar…

Long Gone Summer

Geçmiş Yaz

Rüya gibi bir yazdı. Yarattın hevesinle
Her anını, her rengini, her şi’rini hazdan.
Halâ doludur bahçeler en tatlı sesinle!
Bir gün, bir uzak hatıra özlersen o yazdan

Körfezdeki dalgın suya bir bak, göreceksin:
Geçmiş gecelerden biri durmakta derinde;
Mehtap… iri güller… ve senin en güzel aksin…
Velhasıl o rüya duruyor yerli yerinde!

Yahya Kemal Beyatlı

 

-Long Gone Summer-

It was a dreamlike summer; you created keenly

Its every moment, every colour, every poem out of pleasure

The gardens are still filled with your sweetest voice.

If, one day, you miss a remote memory from that summer

Just look into the pensive water in the gulf; you’ll see:

Someone from gone nights is standing still in the deep

Moonlight… big roses… and your finest reflection…

In a word, that dream remains in its proper place!

-Translated by Rukiye Uçar…

Kavaklar – Poplar Trees (Öndeyiş – Prologue)

My flesh is freezing cold, my heart in aches.
Oh the poplar trees, the poplar trees…

With coarse scissors,
They carved me out of an old photograph.

Half of my cheek remained there,
Piecing itself together with the emptiness.

A cut hand on my shoulders,
bleeding for ever and ever.

Oh the poplar trees, the poplar trees…
Pain is chasing me, whistling all through the way.

Translated by Rukiye Uçar (Metin Altıok, Öndeyiş – Kavaklar)

Türkçe’si:

Bedenim üşür, yüreğim sızlar.
Ah kavaklar, kavaklar…
Beni hoyrat bir makasla
Eski bir fotoğraftan oydular.
Orda kaldı yanağımın yarısı,
Kendini boşlukla tamamlar.
Omzumda bir kesik el,
Ki durmadan kanar.
Ah kavaklar, kavaklar…
Acı düştü peşime ardımdan ıslık çalar.

-Metin Altıok…

Yesterday towards morning

ÖZDEMİR ASAF, Turkish poet (1923-1981)

I talked to myself towards morning, yesterday

I was a hill always leading up to myself

There was an enemy up on the hill

I went to shoot him down; then ended up fighting myself.

-Özdemir Asaf (Dün Sabaha Karşı), Translated by Rukiye Uçar…