Melancholy and Memory / Hüzün ve Hatıra

8/7/2019 Melancholy and Memory / Hzn ve Hatra

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SYLE AYLIK

R DERGS

KI 2010 SAYI2

HZN VE HATIRA


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Edited by Nesrin Eruysal

SYLE AYLIK R DERGSWINER 2010 VOLUME 2

MELANCHOLY AND MEMORY


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NDEKLER / CONENS

rke English

Editoryal / Editorial v viNesrin Eruysal

RLER / POEMS

Kenneth RosenBenjaminin Metaoru 2 42

Alred Corn

Ah Leyla Vah Leyla 2 42Hatra 3 43

Reshma Aquil

Metun 4 44Uyuyan Rzgar 4 44

John Muckle

Birka Oda 5 45

Immanuel MisudUdolni Caddesinde, Brno 6 46Hasar Grm Charles Kprsnden Bir iir, Prag 7 47

Cem Uzungnehtiyar utku 8 48Nbeti lm 9 49

Carlos BarbaritoBe iir 10 50

Koray Feyizki Deniz iiri 13 53Dler 14 54

Ken FierBegonyalar 15 55Suyun arihi 16 56


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Mark CobleyDudaklarnn Szckleri Biimlendirdiini Gryorum 17 57Akp Gitmek 18 58Meropa 18 58

Tor SteanssonSenin Inda 19 59

ree RiesenerEsmer Amber 22 62

Barbara CrookerAyiekleri 23 63Kasm 24 63

Hedy HabraNargile 25 64

Abha IyengarKeder 25 66Zamann Geii 26 66

Aine MacAodhaHatrlay 26 67

Carla Scarano DAntonioemberimi Geniletirken 27 68Sabahleyin Kar 28 68

Roberta BurnettKaliorniyada Geen Bir ocukluktan ki An 29 69

Abdlkadir PaksoyGz ela 30 70

Geo CooperGklerden 30 70

Scott M. PotterArkadalar 31 71

Anjan SenKy 32 72Glge 32 72Jal/ Paani 33 73


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Uluer AydoduBir Bilin Gezintisine k in (I) 33 73

Charles Cliord Brooks III

Mavi Pazar 34 74Frtnal Gece 35 75Kaosa Biim Veren Gn 35 75

Fabiano AlborghettiGszlerin Kaydndan iirler 36 76

KAKIDA BULUNANLAR / BIOGRAPHIES 81 90


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Editoryal

Ah! ne byktr dnya lambalarn nda. Hatrann gzlerinde ne kktrdnya! Charles Baudelaire

Derginin bu saysnda yer alan iirler bir metin olarak benliin haritasnkararak hatralar arivlemeye almakta, bu metnin iinde bellein birdaha ele gemeyecek imgeleri uumakta ve tekrar hatrlanmaktadr. Duyusalhatrlaylar, dnce-imge kaynamlarndan oluan ok katmanl parmenler,kayp giden d imgeleri insanln topograk melankolisini seslendiren veyanslayan ulu manzaralar arasnda ve llere tanklk eden metropollerdeyaayan airler tarafndan yaratlmlardr. Bu iirlerde gemi hatrlanmakzere vardr. Bu gemi farkna varld anda bilinte yan bir imge olarak

ancak ksa bir sre iin yakalanabilir. Walter Benjamin imgeyi bilginin tekrartekrar ve ancak bir anlna kurtarlmasnn neden olduu kmazn temsili ola-rak grmtr.

Benjamin Hikaye Anlatcs Nikolay Leskovun Eserleri zerine Dncelerbalkl yazsnda, hikaye anlatma sanatnn sona ermekte olduunu ne s-rer. Deneyimleri paylama yeteneimiz elimizden alnmtr. Deneyim hzl birdle deerini yitirmitir: Hikaye anlatma sanat sona ermektedir, nkgerein, bilgeliin epik boyutu lmeye balamtr. Benjamin ehrazatnhikayeleri birbirine balamasn hal rmeye benzetir. O lm uzakta tutmak

iin birbirine dmlenen hikayeler anlatmakta ve iie gemi renkli hikaye-lerin sraland kendine zg bir evren yaratmaktadr.

Benjamine gre insan doann topograk anatomisiyle kar karya geldii za-man melankoliye kaplmaz. Asl melankolik olan insann bak altnda ikinciplana itilmi olan doann ta kendisidir. Benjamin, Kendi Bana Dil ve nsanDili adl yazsnda ilk gnahtan sonra, insan dillerinin doann mutlak dilinikusurlu bir biimde insanln doalama diline tercme etmesinin sonucunda,doann kendi dilinin gcnden ve etkili ifadesinden yoksun kaldn anlatr.Bu yoksunluk doann byk hznne, insani olmayan, kutsal kelama zlemduyan dilsizliine, yas tutmasna, ilk gnahn zelliklerini dile getiriine vekanlmaz melankolisine neden olmutur.

Nesrin Eruysal ve Kenneth Rosen

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Editorial

Oh, how large the world is in the brightness of the lamps. How small the worldis in the eyes of recollection. Charles Baudelaire

The poems in this issue strive to archive memories by mapping the self as a textwhere memorys irretrievable images it past and recur. Sensory reminiscences,palimpsests of thought-image fusions, eeting dream images are reproduced bypoets who have sojourned in metropolises that bear witness to the dead and amidsublime landscapes that voice and refract humanitys topographical melancholy.The past in these poems only exists for remembering. It can be seized onlybriey as an image that ashes in consciousness for the moment of its recogni-tion. Walter Benjamin understood the image as reecting the predicament of the

continual and momentary rescue of knowledge.

In Benjamins essay The Storyteller, Reections on the Works of Nikolai Lesk-ov, he declares the art of storytelling is approaching its end. The ability to ex-change experiences has been taken from us. Experience has precipitously fallenin value. The art of storytelling is reaching its end because the epic dimensionof truth, wisdom, has begun dying. Benjamin compares Schererazades weaveof stories to the weaving of a carpet. She narrates stories to fend off death andinvokes a universe in her array of knotted and colorfully interwoven tales.

For Benjamin it is not humans that are melancholy when confronting their rela-tionship to topology, but nature that is melancholy subordinated to the gaze ofthe human. Benjamin describes in On Language as Such and on the Languageof Man, how human languages effect an imperfect translation due to the Fallof the absolute language of nature into the improvised language of mankind, de-priving the latter of cogency and effective expression. This deprivation producesthe great sorrow of nature--its muteness yearning for a non-human, divine ex-pression, its mourning and recapitulating the particulars of its fall, and inevitablemelancholy.

Nesrin Eruysal and Kenneth Rosen

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TRKE RLER


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KENNEH ROSEN

Benjaminin Metaoru

Pirenelerin yksek tepelerinde, Fransz granitiyle spanyol selvisiarasndaki ark aydnlatan snrda,

Ikenceyi deilse de, azab beklerken, insan zekasnn gneli vemuhteli doruklarnda,

Hayatn glkleri basmakalp szlere dntnde, gururlu,utanga, gsterisiz,

seyrek bykl ve yuvarlak gzlkl Yahudi, kaderine raz olup,son verdi hayatna,

Aydnlk, srad zihni Walter Benjaminin yok ettikendini (yelek cebindeydi

siyanr). Aikar olan zordur dile getirmek. Sanatnkkenini aklad

Artk en nemli konularndan rnekler verirkenkendini ortaya koyamayan bir adamn

zorluklar iinde. Bu yzdeneer umuyorsanz

Ninniler ya da yemek dualarndan azlasn sylemeyi,gidin hayatnzn Pirenelerine,Anlamn yittii o yere ve yeni bir szck bulun

lme, aslnda hi gerekmese de.

eviren Nesrin Eruysal

ALFRED CORN

Ah Leyla Vah Leyla

Binbir Gece Masallar

Al susam al palmiye aal beldeler hazinesine,Indsten Magribe, Badata, Mekkeye,ama, Kahireye, talih ve bilinmezliinYlankavi ipek yollarn bezeyen kum tepelerine dalga dalga dt diyara,Allahn, Ona selam olsun, Yaradl ssledii,

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Ktleri cezalandrp, iyileri dllendirmek iin,Cinleri, sarma dola deniz canavarlarndan dev dalgalarDalar kadar byk kular gnderdii-adlar hep yanyanaDenizci Sinbad, Karac Sinbad,Boyac Abu Kir ve Berber Abu Sir,Kader arknda yn gibi erilenKarakterlerin yan ykler yaratt anlatlar,

amamlayc roller, tek gbekbayla balanm iie bir dizi matris gibiehrazatn gzbac, mrltl hikayeleriAlkanlk yapan, ya lambasnn aydnlatt szlerin yaratcsBinbir gece boyunca, yazglar hayal ettiyaklaan lm dinleyiciye dntrebilsin diye,

Evren doumun gergin ipliklerinden doan karmaadaasarlanan bir hal kadar hezeyan dolu bir aydaclkSrdryor dokumay bir beeri mekan, bir mihrabDualarn Balayana gnderildii,Hereyi verene, bilinen ve bilinmeyenAlemlerin anahtarlarn elinde tutanOnun rahmeti hi sona ermesin.

eviren: Nesrin Eruysal

Hatra

Siyah begenler, uuan apansz glgelerDne dne giderler tuladan, yksek pencereli duvarlar boyuncaKardaki arka bahelerin sonunda uzanan.Sessizlik, sona eren ve yeni balayan yln belli belirsiz notalar,rmanr yerden solgun bir n dtKrmz biberlere, sarmsak ve parlak elmalara.ekmecede, parm keseli mektup kutusundaBayraklar, kahramanlar, kular ve ieklerle bezenmi.

Eyaletler, iklimler ve beldeler(rpertiyor ka yl getiini saymak)plii, makas alr balardDesenli perdeleri dikmeye, her pencereSrayla donatlr ya da yattrlrd perdelerle. PerdelerGndz ieri alp, gecenin yzne kapatlan.


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RESHMA AQUIL

Metun

Gecenin yldzl bahesi iek apSabah amlarn arasndan szlncekezleyerek ineriz merdivenlerdenKollarmz yastklarn etranda arlamParmaklklar geeriz tazelenerekzm asmasndaki iek kokularndan.

Uykuyla arlapHer zamanki yataklarmza ylrz,Bcekler ve sert demeden kurtulup.

imdi pervane uulduyorkenZihinlerimizi alkanlklara ilitirerek.

Ama gn ortasnda, alkanlklar arasndaBellekten szlr ieriyeO serin balang saatlerinin hatrasHanmellerinin keskin kokusuylaVe guguk kuunun arksyla,

Biz kararlyz

Bu gece yine yukar svmayaYldzlarn silik hayallere dnmesiniaakta iek amasn izlemeye.


Uyuyan Rzgar

Dein altnda gvendeyim diye dndmAma uyurken birka saya uup gitti

Dualar iin kalkan ellereRahibelerin sessizce mrldand.

Zambak gibi kyaetleriDizlerimizdeki tozu karartan,

Kzaran yzler, ha karlan alnlardan damlayan su,Yine de minnettardm orada olduuma.

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Eve dnnce, baykular ve yarasalar gibi uardk,Karanlk dar sokaklarda, anszn beliren lamlar

Koku geene kadar sklan burunlar.Ama Muharrem gnlerinde, tuladan evler ykanm,

Atlarla aarm,Gller kanla karm,

Neredeyse bir enlikti, balkondan sarkardk,Kimse yukar bakmazd.

sann

Kandr mabette.

Burada, yeni, kesiz, gvendeZaman aan, zihinleri renklendiren, kalmak zere gelen.

Ancak bazen, koruyucu duvarn tesindeUyuyan rzgarn zaman ltn hissediyorum,

Bir sabah rman parltsn ikiye bldnO ei benzeri bulunmayann ykselmesi iin.

* slami takvimde, Peygamberin torunu Hseyinin ehit dmesinin anld yasay. Dvnerek, alayarak ve yrylerle gerekletirilir.


JOHN MUCKLE

Birka Oda

lk odam annemin rahmindeydi,ana yoldan saplan yeil tarlada bir karavan;ikincisinde bir ie siyah mrekkep rlattmduvara, Alred Hitchcockn proline benzeyeniddetli bir srama. Alred HitchcockSunar..... beni, olaslklarla dolu ocuu;nc odam skk bir at katndaydbykannemin evinde, bir kz vard oradaokuduu yky abucak unuttuum ve merhaba

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dediim byk-bykbabam, titreyen bir kaval,salar gm mrekkebiyle - Silvicrinle iki kez ykanm bir adam;drdnc odam kan-karas bir koridordabir kat yukardayd, bir blokta, beton direklerdeki bir diziamar ipine bakyordu, herbiri numaralydkaamdaki salar gibi. Erkek kardeimmum tili pembesi bir yatak rtsnn stnde dodu,pencerenin altnda hae uyuyan, viyaklayanbir kurbaa; bydmde bekleme listesindebir ste ktk, beinci odam dardkediler ve rtnalar evinde. Altncsndakz arkadam vard, araba ykama iindeydim,slanrdm, ince bir gn nn altnda yazarakbir krlang kasabasnda, beinciye geri dndm

sonra yedinciye, uzun srmedi-sekizinci odamintikam kenti dediim bir yere bakyordu. Dokuzuncu odamda kaam kazttm,kaba gzlerin nereti, arkadalarn incelii.Onuncunun manzaras gzeldi, an kulesi tepesine trmanrdm, musluksuyunun tad kekremsiydi. Onbirinci bir gece yars kulesindeydi.Onikinci ve onncy ok tuha bir kzla paylatm, neden yleydi bilmiyordum,hala da bilmiyorum ve ondrdnc odamgzel bir gnde yand ve ayrldm bu yzden,masumdum, hereyde olduu gibi. Onbeinci ve onaltnc odalardauzun kaldm, deer verilen bir arkadala.

Ayrldk, ben Londraya tannca,dar bakp hayatm planladmonyedinci odam, yukarda k lekelerinin stnde.


IMMANUEL MIFSUD

Udolni Caddesinde, Brno

Bindiimiz her tramvayda sarar beniBu hzn dalar gibi.Brnonun bo sokaklar gibi.Udolni Caddesinde uyuyan sessizlik gibi.ek bana yaptmz bu berbat yolculuk gibiMeydann ortasnda karlatmzdan beri.Ruhsuz tpk bu kaldrmlar gibi.


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Hasar Grm Charles Kprsnden Bir iir, Prag

Sonra bakn okumam istedi.imdi olmaz, gzlerimirman suyunda yitirdiimi grmyor musun?dedim.

**

Gzlerimi kapatp d kurmam sylediVe d kurdum ve uyandm ve gzlerimi atm yenidenVe geree baktm dalgnlkla.Sigara yakp, sessizce durdum.

**

Bu kprden ilk getiimdeKarakalem portremi yapan adam tandm.Yryp geerken salarnn beyazladn arkederek.Kvrk parmaklar kadn zerinde gezindi,saatte portre yaparak.Glmsedim.Resmimi yapmak iin serdii kada bakarm gibi bakt yzme.imdi olmaz. Bu kez yalnzca bakyorum.nk salarn aarm, parmaklarn titriyor

Ve ben korkuyorum bu kezBeni tam da olduum gibi resmedeceinden.

**

Ayaklarmn dibinde gvercin sesleri.Seninkilerde bir yn l yaprak.

**

Vitavadan ho bir rzgar esiyor.

**

Karanlk kerken, kprde martlar armha geriliyor,rdeklerin oktan uykuya dald rmak gibi durgun,tek bana bekleyen adam gibi sessiz,beyazlar giyinmi bir kadnn aniden rlaypsabaha dek onu iine alacana dairlmeye yz tutmu umudu gibibu yzden uyandnda elini ona doru uzatr

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ve bulur, bunun yerine, hzla akan rma.

**

Kprde donuyorum, karanlk oluyorum,sanrlara kaplp, her heykelle konuuyorumglmseyip yere uzanan veserilip bir iek gibi len kadn gryorum.Sanrm bu son kez oluyor.

**

Soyunup aynaya baktve yemin etti uzun mu uzun bir aa grdne

meyvelerini ve yapraklarn dken.Gzlerinin altna koyu siyah bir izgi ektive gzlerinden yldzlarn dtn hayal ettigslerinde dinlenen ince toz pudra gibi.Dudaklarn kan rengine boyad.Erkek soyundu ve aynaya bakt.Bir gln ortasnda kk bir kayk grr gibi oldusudan kran iki l aala birlikte.Sonra gnein ktn ve kayn battn grd.Kadna adyla seslendi. Kapya vuruldu.

(Prag, 29-9-2009)


CEM UZUNGNE

htiyar utku

utkular, meltemin savurduu uzun earplar gibi dalgalanyordu.M. Yourcenar

nsan mr bir gen tutkuyu yattramaz.utku sa kalmak ister, gzel kalmak

utku bize Mestoelesin deil,daha ettan bir melein emridir.

stelik ruhumuzu satmadk,mr biip satn aldk o ebed genlii.

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Meleim, ahiem, emirler yadrp durma, gn ara ver. imi kemiren kurt.

Nasl benziyor bak: la petit morte!Sevimek can ekimektir.

Ruhumuzla tenimizlekrmaa burumaa baladk bak sevgilim.

Bu tutkulu korku, korkulu tutku;terli tene sinmi o dayanlmaz koku.lm, sevgilim lm, gn ara ver...Boynumuzu ipek rzgr pyor.

Nihayet sa zlemek iinok gnah ok di izi

omzumuzda, kasmzda ok lkans tamak gerek. Ama yllar gnahlar

tutkunun san bozamaz;burumaz yzmze dokunan earp:

insan mr buna yetmez! Sevimekcan ekimek sarslarak alayarak

Hep sa tutku kalacak bir bak varihtiyar yznde bak, dalgalanyor;

bir bakr sikkedeki yz gibi,iadesini bozmadan, sadece

zamann izikleriylebiraz daha hrn, daha hrn.

Nbeti lm

Hakkya, gnl borcuyla...Buzlu gece mavisi... Doum klinii...Ankara garndan lks sesler iittik.lm cam kuvezde nabz yoklad durdu.

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Birbirimizin gzlerine, bakmadk.

(Camdan ayl geceye, bakmadk.)Camda baklarmz karlamasn!Baklarmz, bir sokak lmbasnn altndanbet tutan lmle karlamasn!Rahimde erken bir boluk duygusuruhumuzun eperlerini tekmeledi durdu.Balamam bir hayatn tel sardkl koridorlarn i sessizliini.Operada bir haylet baba, kezzapl yzneay maskesi takt. Susup, lmn

hkmn bekledik. Nbeti lmn.Shhiyede Hitit Gnei ylece durdu.Ay ylece durdu; hibir eyi imlemeden.Hastane camlarnda hemireler aysard.Hava il kokuyordu. Buz mavisi E.K.G. monitrleri,bebein yaamak ehvetini snad durdu.

Hemireler, endenin ekatli kz kardeleri,lme kaytszdlar ama, lmn gizli emriyle

iaret parmaklarn ehvetsiz dudaklarna ptrpbizi bir ay sessizliine davet ediyorlard.Cam kuvezdeki bebek, katlm alamasylahzla merdivenlerden inen pelerinli bir babayard durdu; nbeti eczanenin endeli (turuncu)na doru, dolunayla mayalanm bir dehete doru...

CARLOS BARBARIO

Be iirAte olabilirdim, tarlalarda bir tavan...Ate olabilirdim, tarlalarda bir tavan.Hayr. Bir imein ak ynetir,belirler, saya kenarlarn yaptrrKitabn.Her biri kendi glgesi ve arlyla.

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Bir aa olabilirdim, arot, bir meyve.Hayr. Gri su,yava, kadim. Dnyaslanyor. Biimsiz sv,uzanmsz, ynsz.eviren: Nesrin Eruysal

ekrar tekrar denedi...ekrar tekrar denedi,Baaramad, soyunu srdrmeyi;

yitik bir heceninbaka bir kkn etrana sarlmmeltemle tanan bir tyn.Pek az ey geti eline, neredeyse hi,belli belirsiz duyulan bir soluk alduvarn tesinde,kk bir yuva, dalm ve bodnyaya dalm kkler arasnda.eviren: Nesrin Eruysal

Anlarmz donacak...Anlarmz donacakzerine bastmz toprak kuruyunca.Dalgalar, Samanyolu, kitaplar, imeklergzmzn nnde donacak.Nasl nleyebiliriz bunu? Nasldurdurabiliriz bamza gelecek olan?Neden her sahildehava kararrken l bir balkve galaksiler iindeartk ne ses ne de k veren kara bir galaksi?Neden sonsuz olmasndalgalar arasnda yzme hareketleri,bahede gl kokular,glcklerde ve aynalarda yansmamz?

eviren: Baki Yiit

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Mary HogganBu dnyann son sisi de dald.Ama mucize eseri-nasl olduunu bilmiyorum-eski ahabn, zamanla anmperdelerin kokusu kald.O havaySoluyorum, artk varolmayan evlerin duvarlarna vuranonca rzgardan sonra.Duru bir d- derdi,oktandr mhrlenmi azn aabilse.Ve ben oturup kalm, her zaman olduu gibi,raklar iin yazlm ayn eski kitabn nndesylyorum ona

-artk beni duymasa da-her zamanki yarm yamalak aksanmla:Ne olduumuzu anlarsn, ne olduumuzu hatrlayarak.Not: Alntlanan dizeler srasyla Edwin Muirin Te Labyrinth ve Te Horses adliirlerinden alnmtr.eviren: Nesrin Eruysal

Ne yaptk? Gn...Ne yaptk? Gnvarlna son kez bahane buluyorve lambalar yklyorazar azar. Ya imdi?Seslileri szcklerden karp atsak mkaranlk biraz olsun geciksin diye?teki bir krekle amuru kazyor.teki klleri okuyor.teki evinin duvarnda bir delik ayorRzgar girebilsin diye.teki oturuyor, tasaszahap lake bir koltukta.Biz tekiler deiliz, olamayz.Bize kalan nedir? Nedir,plak bize kalan? Hangi nedenhangi d ya da biimde kalan?Bir tek eyi biliyorum, evet Goetheden beri:Irman kysnda, daima,

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boulmu bir kz belirirve az sonra, pek uzakta deil,akntnn banda, bir kitap.


KORAY FEYZ

ki Deniz iiri

I.

Bu sonsuz mavi denizde dalga olarakarptm her kumsaldanbir kum tanesi olarak geri dnmek istedim hepistedim ki ben de bir dalgack oluturaymkuytu bir ta gibi kendi yalnlnda rahat ve huzurluzaman zaman kendi asiliinde yalnzherkes iin olmaktankendini olduu gibi ortaya koymaktan gururlu.

nnde durduu sinema dolup boalrken

sokaktan geenler bir glge aradndasrekli ve kesintisiz orda.

Bu sonsuz mavi denizde topal bir mavna gibiyrrken sekiyor zaman.Sar duvar kr gz lambann tili gibi titriyor yreimizbeton yamurun tazeliine, kent suya zlemini gideriyorsu alamyor, krmyor, iseliyor.

Bu sonsuz mavi denizdesabahtan oturuyorum danteline anlarn.Ak yitip gidiyor her iek kendi rengiyle yitip gidiyor.Bir kaya gibi kyorum derinlerinedevrildiim bu ocuun.

II.

Kular birikmiyor yapraklarna bu ceviz aacnnglgesinde serinlerken bir sis an,

kk dalgalarn vurduu sahiller iin

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bir deniz gnn birinde,byk dalgalar da getirir diye dnyorum.Dalga geri dner bir dierini arrbu kumsala her zaman.

Sen gnei alarak bana karanl brakp gittiin iinyalnzlmn avlusunda sabahma biriken kular yok,bir sis an da yok ama sis basyor iimi.

Ve dnyorum epeevre sarldm iin,dalgalanmayan bir l denizya da arpacak bir dip kaya bulamadm iindeli deli gidip gelen bir ak deniz deilim.

Dler

zlme diyorum kular bir gn dnecekbir gn umutla rzgar alp terkilerinednecek kular, sen de bana dneceksin.bakacaksn pencerende bir ay reigeceden birikmi avularnda kokusuzlediin ieklerin, sen de bana dneceksin.

bir gn umutla kularn terkilerindegurbetini getirip brakacaksn ylegzlerimin rhtmnademirleyecek takalar;ele avuca smayan szcklerim,yelken aan pupa yelken umuda iteonlar canm actan yalnzlklarm,kalbimin ylkya brakt aklar.

dn kumrular sokandan getim yinekular yoktu, ben kular hi unutmadmsen de arada bir anmsasan diyorum iyi olur.iyi olur, kular gitgide azald nk.aalar sar, dal yaprak kr.behetin kulara yazd iirleri bir anmsa,kular ok severdi behetunutma.orhan graymanda severdi yaarken.

belki bir gn behet de dner bakarsngenliimizin masal, bir parmak gkyzszyor alnndan, bo erevenin aslolduu eski bir duvarda olduka kirli.

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resim nerde? ... bizim kouta ektirdiimiz,nerde hzne alan avlusu kalbimizin?zlme kular bir gn dnecek,sen debana dneceksin, srt antanda yamurlar.

sabrn kestii rmak patlamaz karde,denize hasret geen bir mrdahasyapra dalna hasret kalm bir gzolmaz asla senin hayatn, senin hayatnocuklarn itii bir pnar gibigz severim bilirsin sapsarbir pencerede oturup akam beklemek,takalaronlar yoktular ancakbir iir biliyordum ad takalar olan.

herkes bir eyleri bekler nedense kimiyitirdiklerini bekler ha babam kimideltas olmay bir rman yaamncadler yalancdr oysa dlerdler;kalbimin ylkya brakt aklar.

KEN FIFER

Edip Cansever iin

Begonyalar

Bak nasl da dklyor begonya yapraklar.Bir an gkyznn yuvarlak anandanbesleniyorlar. Sonrabedenimdeki her tybir mezarta, bir ant oluyorbaka bir rtnaya. Gkyzne bak,yanl bir yne doru eilip bklerekbir begonyann ta yapra gibi zerime den.Mevsimin bittiini grenilk kii olmak istemiyorsun.Ben de istemiyorum. ayapraklarbilmiyorlar ne istediklerini.

Gkyz ve rzgarn durumubugnn Sal olduunu gsteriyorhala elimde duranbalmumundan bu yaprak gibi.

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Pazartesi miydibegonyam atnda?Balkonda dndm:Gne darda bir yerlerde olmal.

Gne nemli deil-birka gn daha var sonra gidecek.Elimde ta yapraklarparmaklarmn kenetlendii yerde-souk deil, ama scak da deil artk.Bekliyorum iek amalarn. Bekledim.Gerei sylemek gerekirse, yanlmakhereyi yeniden grmek gibi.Budur ite arasndaki ark

bir baheyle balkonun.

Sonra durdum. Pazar mydkapnn zili aldnda?Kap m yoksa teleon mu?Ya da ikisi birden?Ya da sesi bir begonyann?Hayr o da deilSes duymadm. Neden olmasn?Birisi brakp gitti bedenimi-hayr,

yalnzca senin glgendi bir bulutta gizlenen,yalnzca benim elimtm saatlerde titreyenbalkondaki begonya gibi.Bak bana srklenirken darya.


Suyun arihi

Su sunarKendini Martta,Kararan bir rzgarNem ykl bir bulutKibirli bir eOrtalama bir hayat.uttuumuz zamanBirbirimizi yeterince yakn,Akp gider gibiyiz,

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enlerimizde arayarakSu izlerini.Metni ap geenSzckleri buluruzBir yana yaslanm,ine domu bir su damlasnn.Beden svlarmzDinleyerek balaSuyu,Diye haykrdndaSz akarBir az dolusu tkrkle-nce, bo bir bardak,Sonrasnda, bo bir ev.


MARK COBLEY

Dudaklarnn Szckleri Biimlendirdiini Gryorum

temiz hava gibi kokuyorsun

burada deil iskoyadasnya da bir arabadaglerek deniz kenarna gidiyorsun.ta duvarlar grebiliyorum, tepenin kvrmnbulutlar.ve senin gzleriniaynaya yansyanbeyaz dilerini kuzulara doru evirmeni.

sisli. sabahbahede duruyorumsessizliin daha anlaml olduuaalarda salarnson dizeyi unuttum.

Ama yle balyordu:artk tanmyoruz birbirimizihepsi harerin yerine geenkodlanm saylar.tepeler daha yksek dncenden.


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Akp Gitmek

pmeye korkuyorumyaklatnda.

ykk bir evbir tarladakzl salarhzn korkun bir canavar.


Merope

Ziyaret etmeyeceimseniya da hatrantekrar tekrarmavi beyaz ve gri gvercinrenkleridir bulutunsouk bir sabahtaki solukyanstr

gzn etrandaki hareyiyzme asla dokunmayacakparmak izi sarmalrzgarn yakalaypdoladamaburadangidenkaranlk deilya da krlkya da hilekar deniz mrekkebiykselen ve alalanmenekesolan kyitip gidensonsuza dekiindeyara iindedalgannkararangzleri rten

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utan iindebir helezonlm kandran akll Sisioskzkardelerimgemicilerakmbeni tanmazsnartk.


HOR SEFANSSON

Senin Inda

1

Piman olacak birey yok.

Ayrlmzdr uyandranyeniden birleme midini.

Sen olmasan daarzu yetiyor bana.

Doyum hi eit olur mubekleyiin hazzna?

2

Bulumalarmz haz veriyor daima

Yine de kimi zamanyllarca birlikte oluyoruzarketmeden.

Zihin kaldrmyorhayatn bunca yzn,

huzura ihtiyac var hatralarngzlerindetututurmak iin

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ruhunu yakacakateleri.

3

Kalbim arpyorge dorugsmde.

Gneinsreklitepedek ortasnda gnler boyunca

aydnlatmak iinstmze ken akam karanln.

4

Ve ak mmkn mbu ykntda?

Adlarmz yazyorumbir para kada

ve gizliceuzatyorum sana

incinmi bir kalple.

5

Akzedelenmez,

Akp gider ileriyetehlikeyle,

derin bir yatak kazar,yksek bir elaleye srar.

Durgun sularda yzmeyekim devam eder?

6

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Senin nda bakyorumakn renklerineasla sahip olamasam daoradaki gzel olan hereye.

Sadece adn yeterkulam enlendirmeye.Mzii daha satrduyduum tm alglardan.

Halen ylescak ki.Ama nasl elde edebilirim

senin karmandaki yerimi?

7

Ruhlar dokunurve beden unutulurnk yledir.

Keder salnryldzlar arasnda

ve krr gklerde.

Gzellik belirirgzlerinde.Yaadm o yerde.

8

Bu gneli yazdasadakatnparlak kanatlarve her ikisinin altnda rzgarvar.

Ve biz uup gidiyoruzcokulu kalplerleayr ynlere.

9

anr birde .

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Ak birde iki.nsan bir bana.

10

Akretir bizeyaamay.

Yaamretir bizeak olmay.


REE RIESENER

Esmer Amber

Anneml balinalar serpti stnegmms salna sarldnda

esmer amberinYunusun kubbeli, kirili odasnda gizlidevasa ahtapotlarn gagalarna sarld gibi

ve veda pcmormandaki aalar gibi koktubaharat gibi, iekler gibi,gzel hanmlarn egzotik kokularnngizliden gizliye hissedilmesi gibittnc dkkanndaki ince, gzalc lm kutularnda.

Ah, toprankokulu yatanda uyuyan annekrmz arabn baharatdolamyor artk gmten damarlarnda.Biberiye, iekler, reineli k kknarlarAy nn buhurdanlar,Gne , karanlk ksonsuz yatann zerinde.


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HEDY HABRA

Nargile

I.

Arka bahesinde kapana kslmyal bir adamkahvehaneleri dnr,tavla oyunlarn, zarlarsede kakmal ahaba rlatlan.Parmak ular katlanmbo avu iine,el yitirilmi hareketi yeniden hatrlarken

piposundan bir nees alr,atlam amberleri canlandrarakDivalarn derin vibratolarn dinler,Feyruzu, Sabah, mm Glsm.

II.

Kanarya yetitirirbahedeki ilikte, yumurta

kabuklaryla besler, elma dilimleriyle,her gndoumunda kaesleriasar ardanasalncaa bakansebzeleri sular,deerli tohumlaruzaklardan gelen,kvrk salatalklar,Lbnandan zel asma yapraipeksi yapraklardolma yapmak iin birebir.

III.

Mercandan yaplmtesbihini ekerek,saatlerce otururst kapal sundurmann altnda.Boyal azlnucuna yapm dudaklarla,

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anrya kredertorunlarYeni Dnyadazgr yaayacaklar diye.Ne arkederruhu kseldayan bir ieye,duman halkalarna enen?Doulu sesler karrkularn arklarna, Sabah,mm Glsm,Feyruz.

IV.

Dikkatle kartrrken kmrlerimaayla, arabeskleri izliyor,suyun altndanykselen girdaplar, enmi camdahapsolmu,yzeyde patlayan,sar edici szckleriniboulmu Fenikeli bir denizcinin.


ABHA IYENGAR

Keder

Hereyi gemite braktmDnerekYryorum,Ama dncelerim yrmemi engelliyorDurmak istiyorumBir aaca yaslanmakSertliine tutunarakDinlenmekVe yapraklarn dn izlemekAma kederleSrdryorum yrmeyiYapraklar sessizce dyor ardmdan.


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Zamann Geii

Birgn daha sz veriyor eilip bklmeyeenenin sabahki gerginliiGeceye doru zlrkenSarkan enenin yorgunluuylaBeklenti yeriniKirli havlularn lekelerine brakrSabahn iek a gn batmnn perianlna doru yitip gider.Emeki eve dner ve nne ilk ne karsa onunla rahatlarRuhu olan bir kadn, bo bir ieAma gn sona erer.enedeki uzam sert sakalBaka bir iarettir yalnzca.

Buruuklar biimlendirir ivann atall zpknnYaralayarak sulanm gzleriYitirilmilik duygusuyla kayp giden,Bir tr puslu hatray.Neredeyse tm umutlar lrAma bazlar canl kalrnk lm kolay gelmez, hele bir gecede aslaHer geen gnle gelir, zaman aktka.


BARBARA CROOKER

Ayiekleri

Yln bu zamannda, scak gne itlik arazilerine kvrlarak inerken,Van Goghun buday tarlalarn hatrlatr bana, amanszk, kargalarla izilen gkyz, onlarn karanlk, bouk seslerive ksa hayatlarmz dnrm, rzgarda savrulan saman pkararan gkyznde bir anlk. Dnrmselvilerini, onlarn karanlk alevlerini, sar duvarlardan rkenrk-mavisi irisleri, erimi altn gibi bir vazo dolusuayieini, yanmann iddetini. Maviler bile, Vincentn mavilerisar evin arkasndaki kobalt younluu,yldrm bulutlaryla ykl gkyz, bizi yatturmal ama olmuyor.Aksine, hepsi keli.Kardeine bir mektupta sylemiti, m kalbimleiindeyim ve ben de ylesine iindeyim bu hayatn, zlemve aclar iinde. Biz gittiimizde, kk arklarmz ve kk hazlarmzdan

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ne kalacak geriye? Yine de bir buday tarlasnn yanndan geerkenkzl kahve ve ambere dnen, her baak ve sorgu haykrr:gne! gne! gne! Bir ey uyanr iimde, bir para kat aratr, bir kurun kalem,scak rzgar kaldrper toza dnen bizi, yukarlara tar.


Kasm

Sonbaharn . EsirgenmeyeceksinLouise Glck

Yanan allk snd, syrlp gittikzl giysisinden, soyundudalna, srgnne, plak kemiklerine,kendi mimarisine. Kalbin sonbahardr buate snp gittiinde. Karanlk lmdr bu yln,annem gzden yitmeye baladnda,bir evreden dierine geen ay gibi belli belirsiz;her geen gnle azald . Kravurdu tm ieklere, manzara renksiz,

kl ve bejin tonlar, kabuk ve tohumkeselerinin renkleridir geriye kalan.

(Bu iirler Crookern ilk kitabnda yer almaktadr (Radiance, Word Press, 2005).)


AINE MACAODHA

Hatrlay

Annemle babam ldklerindemzik bir sreliinesustu.

Ypranm bir kemanAsl duruyor iri akordiyonun yanndaezgiler anmsanyor

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otora karelerindekemanclarn gecesiyerel radyoda.

Muamba demenin zerinderitme uygun vals yaparakbir, iki, ...

zleyen baklar altndakutsanm Oliver Plunkettinkayp gittiler.

Yine duyuyorum iimde

Mziin ykseliiniK sk sk ziyarete geldiinde.

Atlantie akanSouk rmaklar gibiYolculuk uzun.

Dalgalar dinliyorumDuyuyorumYal anne babamn mziini.

(yal it, anne baba anlamna gelir)


CARLA SCARANO DANONIO

emberimi Geniletirken

Halanan lde bir serap gibibykannem canlanr.Hasr iskemlesinde otururyedi ocuu iin diki dikerek.

ine eilmekten iki bklmkamburu km,elleri buruuk ve biimsizzeytin aacnn dallar gibi.

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Nasl dayanabildin tm bunlara? diye sorarm.Seme ansm yoktu, kapana kslmtm.Umut dolu gzlerle bana bakar,Brak hayatn serpilsin, geri evirme.

Kum tepeleri susarbiimlerini deitirerek,kumdaki izlerbana yol gsterir.


Sabahleyin KarBeyaz damlar, beyaz imenler,n sokak karla kaplanm,kprdamyor arabalar, kaplar kapal.Sesler yok, insanlar yok,k uykusundaki porsuklar gibi uyumaktalar hl.Sakin havada balyoruz gne.

Ana baba, kzkarde ve arkadalarla yaplanelencenin ardndan sevincimi artrano renk ya da tatl dokunular.Kopmutuk dalarn yukarsndatrakten, kargaadan uzak,karla rtl blgede.

emiz havada itahm ald.Dayanma gcme meydan okudu souk,rzgrlmda dinlendi kar taneleri.Huzur kadar beyazkale kadar yksekkard beni dengede tutan.

eviren: Baki Yiit

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ROBERA BURNE

Kalioniyada Geen Bir ocukluktan ki An

Yediden Dokuza

Anne: deri kemerler, inceve kaln, her zamanuzun bir ivinin ucunda, asl duran.Veranda, sabah gnei:seim yapmam istenir - kemer, el vedenek arasnda - her biriningc ayr.Hibir eyin anlam yok. Anlam kazanyor

seim yapmak zorunda olduumudnnce.Sanrm haketmeliyimbu geii, bir kural ne de olsa.Zorunlu olsa da istemiyorsemeyi. El, hrpalayan denek,kemerler hep orada,asl, kullanlmaya hazr,kullanlan.

Arka Bahe, Bakersfeld, Dokuz Ya

- Bashoya

Scak yaz sabahndaAaca yaslanmm.Saylamayacak kadar ok kaysbiilmemi imlerin zerindebenimle kaln kitabmn arasnda. Bir tanesonra bir tane daha dyorcumburlop. Portakal rengi etli ksm yarlyormeyvas yenmeyecek kadar olgun.Birini alp srsem,cildimi besler. Heder olanntatl kokusu.

Aman sayalar temiz tutalm.


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ABDLKADR PAKSOY

Gz ela

te gz geldi yineDayanarak ard aacndan asasnaSon yangndan kurtardAlnnda yalnzln derin rma

te gz geldi yineBa akAyak yalnKederi giyinmi kaderim diyerekBir dervi gibi

Yine gz geldi iteO gelmeden nceHurdaya kmt medar- miet motoruKiler boNe yapsakArtk anacm da yokBulup buluturacak

Hep byle oluyor her yl

Kimseleri beklemezkenKsmken ee dostaalyor kapm gzam ben ekip gidecekkenUzaklara.

GEOFF COOPER

Gklerden

skoyada kitaplarla dolu bir kr evinde yaarddzenli, uak teek bir adam, gze arpan hibir eyi yoktuyalnzca mor tesi n gibi keskin iki gzelmas kat kat kesipiki yzll syrp atmaya yarayan.

Kitaplar ss ya da toplumsal silahlar deildibinlerce yl konuabilirdi tarihten hi teklemedenDon Scotus, Arbroath, Edinburghlu Hulme,

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lkesinin gemiini drste kavrayanbu iki mavi gz, skoyann o en gzel iekleri.

nanyorum ki konumaya balar balamazsavaa hayr derdi ama 39da gnll oldushhiye eri olarak n cepheyekartma gn taburuyla indirildi,tam da ilk dalgada Colentine.

Ama gneli bir gn kapmusulca ald. Yalnzca bkknlk, yalnzca uzaklk vard gzlerindetek bir cmle syledi_____artk bahemle uramanza gerek yok.Sonra yavaa, dermansz yryp uzaklat.

Birka saat sonra rendik ve benyi olan neyimiz varsa hepsinin, iyi olan hereyin-onun gl ve korkusuz aknn-gp gittiini hissettim.

skoyada prl prl bir bahar gnydbazen souk, bazen serintam gne tutulmas, gece yarsyeri doldurulamaz olan

snen bir yldzd.


SCO M. POER

Arkadalar

Gn be gn gp giden eski dostlarn trpanla biilmi hatralarnaDntr yerin altnda akkarncalarn tad artklarDenizkzlar ve denizerkekleri, yalnz gecelerde adm atlmayan gizli sahillerdeEski arkadalarn hayaletleri rpnan dalgalar ele geirdiinde.

Benliin derin koruluklarnda glp oynayan periler yer deitirsin muhazlarlaBundan byle bugne ve gelecee hkmetmesin onlarBunun yerine, en iyi karlamalar en yksek raara koymalYeniden hatrlamak istediimizde alp bakmak iin,

Sabahn erken saatlerindeki teekkr beldesinde,

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Arkadalarmz her neyse ve ne idiyse karp giderler sevinli arklardan gkkuaklarnaBylece szcklerin gcyle aydnlatrlar balarmz ve dile gelmemi dncelerimiziVe yle bir deiimi imlerler ki balamaz ne seni ne de beni.


ANJAN SEN

Ky

Acnn ailesi brakpYerle bir olmu ata ocan

Yoksulluun yoluna koyuldu

Evren kresel bir ky olacak, sevdiim.

zgn balk Graam. Austric - Anjan Sen zel Says Gharbahirde yer ald.


Glge

Glge sallanrGlgenin glgesi akp giderIrman kysndaki odadaUpuzun resimli tomarlaryk blk prk gelir ve srp giderZihnin uzun resimli tomarndaUzun gzler, gzlerde bir bedenAma o evde deilKonuma yok, yalnzca konumann glgesiSzcklerden bu imgelerHepsi birer kutsanm yanlsama.


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Jal/Paani

Jalmi diyelim yoksa paanimiJalpaanisinde at denizleriBak rman yaam sona eriyorlke ikiye blnm Iswar Allah adnaKrk dkk oda bir bedeni barndryorAkl gitmi, oynam yerindenocukMa Amma demiO bulank bir hayal imdiDil blnmekteDil n dans tm ynlerdeDil JaltoprakPaanigkyzSO-L-UK

Dilerim tamamna ersin.

zgn Bengalce balk Jal/Paani, ilk kez ista orshada (1996) yaymland.Bhando Bevando (2002) adl sekiye girdi.

***Not: suyerine Bir Hindu Bengalli Jal diyecektir, Mslman Bengalli ise Paani.Jalpaani Bengalcede bilgelik anlamna gelir. Iswar ve Allah: srasyla Hindu veMslmanlar tarandan kullanlan anr anlamndaki szck.


ULUER AYDODU

Bir bilin gezintisi: k iin (1)

-indeymiim meerse iimde olann-

Kendini evden kardne el sallayan oldune de su dkenkatlayp itinayla evisokaktan kardsoka omuzlayp mahalledenuyuyordu mahallelimahalleyi bir gzel bohalayp ehirden kardkimsenin ruhu duymadehri alpsanki karlmas yasak bir eymi gibilkeden kard gizlice

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lke bir iki tngrdadbir iki saa sola oynadlkeyi dnyadan kardaznn kenarna bir slk yerletirdi geliigzeldnyay hop kainattan karddurdu bir srekar kar bitmiyordu nkiine kendisinden koymutu namussuzkainat alp kendinden kardkayboldu yleceah etmedenvah demedenve benardndan bakp

glmsedim.(1) Jacques Prevertin Sabah Kahvaltsnda bulunmasaydm bu iiri yazamazdm.

CHARLES CLIFFORD BROOKS III

Mavi Pazar

Bir koi havuzu, ihmal edilmi,

yapraklar toplanmak ister.Hastalkl bir havauzanyor bkknlklasolgun ten zerinde.

Uyuuklukuzak tutuyor zihnimi imleri kesmekten,yeni bir p bulmaktan,yeni etiketler satn almaktan.

Birisi durmaksznsilahn ateliyor.

raktrdeki grltc iilerbir ileri bir geri gidip gelirlerkendardaki asalt yoltoprak yola dnyor.

Dnya beni tamamenyutmu.


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Frtnal Gece

Sersemletecek kadar uzun saatlerharcanr bo bo bakarak.Yatakta dnrmneden tam da bu saatte uyandmsanki vaktigelmeyecekmi gibiben orada deilsem.Gzler en uzak kesine dek akZaman huzursuzluumu gzlemekte.Sessizlik haykryordayanamyorum.Bacaklarm gsme ekili,

k sanki bir alkanlk gibi kp gelecek.Horozlar az sonra terken.


Kaosa Biim Veren Gn

Yrrken ardmdan bir korkuyu srklyorum,

aan kahreden kap vuruuyla ktleen bir duygu.Aklarn svt saatte, oraplarnda kaklar.Sabah ii bir hastalktr, varl grkemimlealay eden gnein douundan gm saniyeler nce,nce erkenci kularn, sonra boyun ba takan Hristiyanlarn ykt.

Gne inatla dnyor sylemeye isteklisradan insana uyanmasn ve bana da sakin durmam.Gnein hoyrat ayaklar acmasz bir hazla iniyorpencere pervazmda gn doumunu izen kk eytanlar.Gecenin yokluunda Hamletin babas gibi aknm,gn ortasnn sradanl sanki dert deilmi gibi yaparken.

Kesi glgelerin arasndan szarken grdm kioraplarm bakasnn soy aacnn iinde.Gel alacakaranlk saatleri! Eros ehir iin ark sylyor.Dalgalanan betona, rtnal, yldzl geceye,unutuun krlgan dalgalarnda Psieyi arayarak.Uykusuz putperestler Uan Hollandalnn emrinde.

Gecenin kendi ahlak, gurur, agzllk ve ehvete izin verir.

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Canavar, bakireyi, gvenin esnekliini kabul ediyorum.Aynn aydnlatt bu inceliin altndaRenkler, tarla kular ve onun yz sel olup akyor.Madam Geceyars, ayak takm uykuya dald.Batan karan, aziz ya da palyao olmak istemiyorum.Ben tekinsiz saatlerin simyas, masum eytann yardaks,Vicdansz, tanksz, mutlu bir toplumsal czzamlym.


FABIANO ALBORGHEI

Gszlerin Kaydndan iirler

I

Sonra olu anszn kayboldu meydandakalabaln arasnda durduu yerde imdi yeni bir bolukhi kimse bilmiyordu, grmemiti

mor izgili bir tirt, banda krmz kasket.Ne kadar korktuumu biliyor musun diye haykrd yzne

sakatlanm bir anneden ne anlarsn

en korkun dnceleri tekrarlayarak biliyor musun dedielleri omuzlarnda sallad onu eski bir giysiymi gibi.Senin iin nelerden vazgetiimi biliyor musun

inancn sarsan doum acsno aylarda sana gereken yer iinkendine yer amaya alan bedenden ne anlarsn, ne bilirsin ki sen

hibir ey: deien yaam veyitip giden zamanyokoluncaya dek klen ve yokolurken seni de alp gtren

yldan yla akar ve grr senin ne hale geldiini.Hergn boyun eerekparalanan hayatm hakknda ne biliyorsun

varlnla yamaladn hayatm...Srdrmek iin gereken gayreti bilmiyorsunsana sahip olmak iin geri kalan hereyden vazgetiimi bilmiyorsun

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hadi eve gidelim imdi en iyisielimi tut sk sk, eve gtreyim seni.Sonra daha sakin devam etti: her anne ansdr

sann derler, ama aslnda annedirglgede kalp lenlm acsn eken

her tepenin altnda durup bekleyen...

II

Hi parti vermediler, hibir ocuk arlmad

yagnn kutlamaya, ne kola, ne cipsne pasta ne armaanlar ne de ge saatlere kadar sren oyunlar

sadece oturma odasndaki barmalariyi davranlar denetimden kaynaklanrev grlt ve kabalk yaplacak yer deildir.

emizleyecek olan sen deilsinpara harcayacak olan sen deilsintakn, grltc ocuk gruhunu gzetecek olan sen deilsin

syler misin bana ne olur ilerinden biri bir yerini incitse?Sen deilsin hayvanlar gibi yemelerini engelleyecek olanmidelerini bozan portakall gazozdan gzn ayrmayan

Gn bittiinde birisi dp incinseaklama yapacak olan sen deilsinben hemire deilim

birine birey olsa gidip ikayet ederler.Hi partim olmad ve zgn grnyor muyum bunun iin?Bu deerleri olmayan insanlar iindir

ocuklarn yetitirmekten aciz anne babalardr onlar...

III

Giede sra beklerlerken sordu:atlkarncaya binmek iin geldiine memnun musun?Omuzlarndan tuttu sonra gitmesin diye

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elencelerin ve lunaparktan gelen tm seslerin ortasnda,kararn anlamyorum dedi mrldanarakdeneyecek bu kadar ok ey varken hareketsiz olanlar istemeni

Bak Byk opaa ya da lm Gemisineite bunlar gerek olan, dudaklar kvrk atlar deilbu t krldm mzik

boluun ekiciliinden baka nedir ki. Uku iaret ettiTunderbird gsterdi srarlaerkeksen daha iyidir baz eyler

bu hanm evlad dnme dolaplardanbinelim mi bir kere?

ocuk bir ey demedi ban sallad sadece

nceki yl orada olduunu hatrlayarakve midesindeki boluu, iini boaltan itmeyietrandaki herey dnerken nereye tutunacan bilemez insan

boluk byyp savrulma srerkenneessiz kalp kusmaya baladndababas baryordu, tuvalete gtrd

utanc silmek iin, olu adna utanarak...

IV

Altrma tekerleklerini kartmt bisiklettenbir yetikin gibi diyordu ocuk pedal evirirkentutacaklara yapm, dengesini tutturamadan

tutunacak hibir eyi olmadan dmdz giden biri gibi...

V

Gzn morarmasnn normal olmad aklanmalydbu yataki bir ocukta.ekrar dt, merdivende bir kaza

leden sonra eve gelirkenama komu duydu lklarnve anne hereyi inkar etti: ocuk dikkatsizdi biraz

oynarken orasn burasn kesiyordu.

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Havuzda soluk mavi kollarsuyla kartnda

kimse grmedi onlar, kimse szn etmediocuk biraz dikkatsiz olduundanve ar sonular doal karlandndan

baka bir adan bakld zaman.

VI

Kentin grntleri arasnda deil ama bahelerin sessizliindeailelerin sessizliinde her yerdeki araba parklarndave alveri merkezinde

yrdkleri ana caddedetarada bir ey olur kimi zaman ve herkes tanktrer ya da ge grmlerdir ama olurken hi kimse

ama hi kimse kukulanmaz durdurulmas gereken bir ey olduundan.Cinayet ilenmitir ve aileler sarslren koyu Hristiyan vicdanlar:

Kyde yanl bireyler olduu syleniyordu.

Bir anne ocuunu ldrdndene sorarlar bilir misiniz insanlar hemen yanlarndaki dnp duran adama:

Ne diyorlar televizyonda?


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POEMS IN ENGLISH


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KENNEH ROSEN

Benjamins Metaphor

High in the Pyrenees, at a border that claries the dierencebetween French granite and Spanish cypress,

Expecting torment i not torture at this sunny and sundryacme o human intelligence.

Lies exertion became a tautology, and the proud, otherwiseshy, unprepossessing Jew

With a scant moustache and round eyeglasses, swallowedhis lot and ended it,

Te lucent, unexpected mind o Walter Benjamin, sel-obliterated (cyanide

In a vest pocket). Te obvious is hard to articulate. Heproposed the origin o art

In the diculty o what someone thinks, produced byan individual No longer able

o express himsel by giving examples o his most importantconcerns. So i youd hope

o utter more than lullabies or prayers at mealtime, go tothe Pyrenees o your lie,Where nothing makes sense, and invent the necessity o death

word or unnecessary word.

ALFRED CORN

Al Laylah Wa Laylah

Te Book o a Tousand Nights and a Night

Sesame opens on a trove o palm-tree localesFrom the Indus to the Maghreb, Baghdad, Mecca,Damascus, Cairo, a realm where chance and waywardnessRipple what dunes ank the snakelike silk roads,Where Allah, may He be praised, patterns Creation,Sending djinn, tsunamis o coiling sea serpentsOr birds broad as mountains, to punish wrongdoers


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And reward the goodwhose names come twinned,Sindbad the Seaman and Sindbad the Landsman,Or Abu Kir the Dyer and Abu Sir the Barber,Personae spun like wool on ortunes wheelInto narratives sprouting ancillary talesSet in turn with cameo ables, a nested sequenceO concentric matrices linked by one umbilical,Te hypnotic, purred gestations o Scheherazade,Plotter o addictive, oil-lamp-lit recitativesFor a thousand nights and one, destinies imagedSo as to convert impending death into audience,A pragmatism delirious as a carpet theorized

Along the lines o cosmogonys tautly strungChaos, yet weaving, too, a human precinct, a mihrabWhere prayer is texted to the Compassionate,Te All-giving, whose hands hold keys to worldsSeen and unseen, that His mercies may not cease.

Memory

Black pentacles, abrupt shadows in ightwheel across ranks o brick, high, windowed wallsat the end o backyard gardens opposite.Silence, ground note o the late and early year,climbs rom oor level to a hal light allenamong red peppers, garlic, winesap apples.In the desk drawer, a sacheted cache o lettersstamped with ags, with heroes, birds or owers.States, whole climates and terrains rom here(a chill to count how many years its been),shed take up thread or scissors and beginsewing together printed panels, each window in turnprovidedor appeasedwith curtains. Curtainsopened to let day in, or closed against the night.

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RESHMA AQUIL

Star-Struck

Ater the night has bloomed its garden o starsAnd the morning ltered in through the pine,We stumble down the stairsOur arms heavy round the pillowPast the railing, reshenedBy the perume o grapevine owers.

Swollen now with sleepWe slump into our regular beds,Relieved o insects and the hard oor.

Now with the an whirringPinning the mind to habits,

But at mid-day, in-between routines,Shivers through the memoryO that cool opening hourWith the sharp scent o honeysuckle owersAnd the cuckoo singing,

We resolve

onight to steal upstairs againo watch stars dimmingFlowering at dawn.

Sleeping Wind

I thought it was sae under the mattress,But while I slept, a ew pages

Flew into hands raised or prayer.Nuns sang without sound,

Teir lily gownsBlackening the dust on our knees,

Flushed aces, water dripping rom crossed oreheads,But most grateul to be there.

Back home, like owls and bats we ew,

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Dark lanes, sudden drains,

Noses pinched to the length o stench,But on Moharram days, their washed bricks,

White with elegy,Mixed roses with blood,

Almost estive, we bent balconies with bodies,But nobody looked up.

It is blood.Christs in the chapel

Here, resh, unangered, policed,Crossing time, dyeing minds, coming to stay.

But sometimes, beyond the walls containment,I eel the sleeping wind is measuring time,

One morning to part the rivers glitterFor the One about to rise.

*Te month o mourning in Islamic calendar which commemorates the martyr-

dom o Hussain, the Prophets grandson. It is celebrated by chest-beating, lamen-tations and by taking out processions.

JOHN MUCKLE

A Few RoomsMy rst room was in my mothers womb,a caravan in a green eld by a curve o the main road;in my second I threw a bottle o black inkat the wall, a violent splash which resembleda prole o Alred Hitchcock. Alred HitchcockPresents me, the boy with possibilities;a third room was in the cramped attic omy grandmothers house, where a girl read to mea story I promptly orgot, and I said hello tomy great-grandather, a trembling reed, a manwith hair twice-washed in silver ink, in Silvicrin;my ourth room one oor up along a blood-dark corridor

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in a block o ats, looked out at a rowo washing lines on concrete posts, each onenumbered like the hairs on my head. My brotherwas born on a candlewick pink bedspread,he slept lightly under the window, a rog-being,croaking; we moved up the waiting listwhen I was grown up, my th room was narrowin a house o cats and hurricanes. In my sixthI had a girlriend, I worked in a car wash,got wet through, writing under a sliver o skylightin a sparrow town, went back to the th,on to a seventh, not or long my eighth roombeckoned to a town I grandly calledthe city o revenge. Up in room nine I shaved my head,

a hatred o unkind eyes, a kindness o riends.My tenth oered me a ne view, I laboured tothe top o a church-spired hill, a taste o brackishwater on tap. My eleventh in a midnight tower,my twelth, my thirteenth sharedwith a girl so violently strange, I didnt know why,I still dont, and my ourteenth roomburned down one ne day, and I departed thence,innocent o this, o everything. I lived longin rooms teen and sixteen, with a treasured riend.

We parted company when I moved up to the smoke,my seventeenth room, high above a smear o lightswhere I looked out and planned my lie.

IMMANUEL MIFSUDIn Udolni Street, Brno

Its like your mountains, this sadnesswhich overcomes me with every tramwe ride. Its like the empty streets o Brno.Its like the silence sleeping in Udolni Street.Its like this bizarre trip weve made aloneever since we met in the centre o a square.Its like these pavements without a soul.

ranslated by Maria Grech Ganado

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A Poem From a Damaged Charles Bridge, Prague

Ten she asked me to read her look.I said, not now, cant you seeI lost my eyes in the river water?

**She told me to close my eyes and dream.And I dreamt, and I woke, and I opened my eyes anew.And I stared at reality.We lit a cigarette and stayed silent.

**I recognized that guy who drew my ace

the rst time I crossed this bridge.I walked by and noticed his hair grew white.His crooked ngers meandered across the sheet,sketching three portraits an hour.I smiled at him.He stared back like the sheet he laid to draw me.Not this time. Now we will just look,because your hair got white, you fngers tremble,and I ear this time youll manageto draw me exactly the way I look.

**Next to my eet the pigeons coo.Next to yours a heap o dead leaves.

**A lovely wind blows rom the Vltava.

**As darkness alls, the gulls are crucied on the bridge,calm as the river where the ducks already sleep,silent as the man who waits alone,moribund as his remaining hopethat a woman in white springs out o the blueto take him till morningso when wakes he draws his hand towards herto nd, instead, the river owing switly.

**I reeze on the bridge, I become darkness,I hallucinate, I speak to every statue,

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I spot that old woman who smiledgoing on the ground, lying down and die like a ower.I think this is the last time.

**She undressed and looked at the mirrorand swore she could see a tall tall treeshedding its ruit, its leaves.Under her eyes she drew a thick black lineand imagined stars alling o her eyeslike ne dust resting on her breast.She painted her lips the colour o blood.He undressed and stared at the mirror.He thought he saw a tiny boat in the middle o a lake

with two dead trees sprouting out o the water.Ten he saw the sun coming out and the boat sinking.He called her name. A knock on the door.(Prague, 29-9-2009)

CEM UZUNGNE

Aged Passion

Passions undulate like long scarves blown about in the sea-breeze.M. Yourcenar

A human liespan cannot calm a young passion down.Passion wants to stay pure, to stay beautiul...Passion is not the command o Mephistophelesbut o a ar more cunning angel.Above all, we havent sold our souls,weve cut our liespan and bought that eternal youth.My angel, my whore, dont keep raining down orders,give three days respite. Te worm that gnaws inside me.

Look at the close resemblance: la petite morte!Making love is giving up the ghost.With our souls, with our eshWeve begun to crease, to wrinkle; look, my love.

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Tis passionate ear, earul passion;soaked into sweaty esh, that smell not to be borne.Death, dear death, give three days respite...A silk wind kisses our necks.In the end to long or purity we needmany sins, many tooth marks

on our shoulders, in our eyebrows we need to carrythe memory o many screams. But years, sins,cant spoil the purity o passion;the scar touching our aces doesnt crease;

a human liespan isnt enough or this! o make love,is to give up the ghost, trembling and weeping...Teres always a look thats not lost in pure passionlook, in the old mans ace, it undulates;like a ace on a copper coinnot ruining its expression, only

with the lines scored by timea little angrier, angrier.

ranslated by Fiona omkinson

Death on the Night Shito Hakk with gratitudeFrosted night blue ... maternity clinic....We heard voices resembling screams rom Ankara Station.Death took the babys pulse through the glass.We didnt catch each others eyes.We didnt look at the moon rom the windowAraid our eyes might meet at the window.Araid our eyes might meet Death on the night shitwaiting outside under a street lamp.

While an early emptiness kicked in the womb

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and at the membranes o our minds,crude silence o lit corridorsswaddled the struggle to begin a lie.

Te ather wore a moon mask like the Phantom o the Opera,his ace burning with aqua ortis.We silently waited or death to decide. Death on the night shit.Te Hittite Sun Dial stood just so in Sihhiye.Te moon hung just so without implying anything.Antiseptics in the air. Frosted blue E.K.G. screenstested the babys grip on survival.Nurses stood moonstruck by the windows.

Tese anxious Sisters o Mercywere used to sorrow, yet with deaths secret warrantthey raised their orengers to dry lipsand invited us to visit the silence o the moon.Te baby in the incubator choking with sobscalled to the caped ather rushing downstairs,to the orange lights o the all night pharmacy,to the horror that ermented inside the ull moon.

ranslated by Nesrin Eruysal & Ken Fier

CARLOS BARBARIO

Five Poems

I could have been fre, a hare in the felds

I could have been re, a hare in the elds.No. A ash o lightning governs,determines, glues by the edgethe pages o the Book.Each one with its shadow and its weight.I could have been a tree, arot, a ruit.No. Grey water,slow, ancient. Te worldgets wet. Liquid without orm,nor extension, nor direction.

ranslated by Brian Cole

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ime and again he tried

ime and again he tried,without success, to obtain descendants:o a lost syllable,o a stem wound around another stem,o a eather carried by the breeze.It yielded little, scarcely this,an almost inaudible breathingon the other side o the wall,a small nest, messed up and emptybetween roots scattered over the earth.

ranslated by Stean Beyst

Our memories will reeze

Our memories will reezewhen the earth we step on has dried up.Te waves, in our presence, will reeze,the Milky Way, books, lightning.

How can we prevent this? Howcan we prevent rom happeningthat which will happen to us?Why on every beach,at dusk, a dead sh,and between the galaxies, a dark galaxythat no longer emits sound nor light?Why cant they be eternal:the swimmers movements between the waves,the smell o the roses in the garden,our images reected in puddles and mirrors?

ranslated by Jonah Gabry

Mary Hoggan

Te last smoke o that world dissipated.But or some miracle - that I dont understand -the smell o old wood remains, o curtains

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corroded by time. I breathethat air, ater so many windsagainst walls o houses that no longer exist.A limpid dream - she would say,i she could open her long since sealed mouth.And I, who remain seated, like then,beore the same ragged bookor apprentices, I say to her- even i she can no longer hear me -,with the same sloppy pronunciation as always:Know what we are, remembering what we were.

Note: Te quotes in italics belong to Edwin Muir, drawn rom his poems TeLabyrinth and Te Horses, respectively.


What did we do? Te day

What did we do? Te dayat its nal plea,and the lamps that are lit

little by little. And now?Should we take the vowels out o wordsso that darkness is delayedeven just a little?Te other digs with a shovel in the mud.Te other reads in the ash.Te other makes a hole in a wall o his houseso that the wind may penetrate.Te other sits down, unwound,in an armchair o lacquered wood.We are not the others, we cant be.What is let to us? What,naked, is let to us? What reasonor dream or gure remains?One thing we do know, yes, since Goethe:always, at the edge o the river,the drowned girl appearsand, a little later and not ar away,up stream, the book.


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KORAY FEYZ

wo Sea PoemsIo this at all times eternal blue seaI have always wished to return as a grain o sandyet hit every shoreline like a wave.I wanted to dwell in a waveletisolated as a stone, content and peaceul in its simplicity,though oten as not lonely in its rebelliousness,proud o existing or others,yet putting itsel across just as it is.

It will be standing in ront o a cinemawhen people ood in and out,and when passersby look or a shadow,it would be there at one end o itand orevermore.In this at all times eternal blue sea,time, like a wounded bargeis walking with a limp.

Dead seawall, blind eye o the sky,our hearts are trembling, each like the wick o a lamp.Concrete is satisying its thirst or the rains reshness,the city, or water. Water rom the kind o rainthat doesnt come gushing down.It is only drizzling.In this at all times eternal blue sea,when morning comes I ensconce mysel in latticeworkwoven with memories. Love is gone,departed orever, every owerhas withered away along with its own color,and I tumble into the depthso my childish ocean like a heavy stone.

IIBirds no longer perch among the leaves o this walnut treewhen the og horn sits cooling o within its shadow.

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I think the sea will one day bringhuge breakers to these shores now washed by little waves.Each wavelet retreats only to summon another waveto return to this shore again and again.

Since you have gone and taken the sea with you,leaving me this darkness, no birds come byto ll up my mornings in the courtyard o my loneliness.No og horns are soundingbut a og emerges nonethelessto steal down into me.And I think, since I am surroundedbut unable to nd a at seaor bedrock to push against

I havent managed to be an open seamoving back and orth in ecstasy.ranslated by Nesrin Eruysal & Kenneth Rosen

DreamsI say dont grieve, birds will come back one day

lled with hope and carrying the wind on the pillion.Birds will come backand so will you. You will nd a croissanton your window pane, the scent o owersthat you have been longing orgathered in your palms, and you will come back to me.One day, lled with hope and birds on the winds pillion,you will shed your exileon the harborside quay o my eyes. Wooden crateswill cast anchor. My mischievous wordsembark at ull sail towards hope.Such are my painul solitudes,my loves turned loose to range at will like horses.Yesterday I walked through Kumrular Street.No birds were there. I have never orgotten them, though.And you really should remember them sometimes.Birds have begun to diminish in numbers.rees are dea, branches and leaves are blind.Remember the poem Behet wrote about birds,he loved birds, dont orget.

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So did Orhan Grayman when he was alive.Maybe one day Behet will come back,the airy tale o our youth a slice o skybreaking out o his orehead. Where is the photowhose empty rame hangs on an old dirty wall, the onetaken o us in the prison ward?Where is the courtyard o our hearts, the one opening onto melancholy?Dont grieve. Birds will come back one day,and you will come back to me, with rain in your saddlebag.Te river held back by patience does not overow its banks,its lietime spent in yearning or the sea. Whats more,an autumn whose leaves yearn or branches

cannot be your lie, your lielike a spring that children drink water rom.You know I love the yellow o autumn,or waiting or night to all on a windows yellow pane.Single-masted boats: they were nonexistent,yet I know a poem whose title was Single-Masted.Everbody waits or something, someor those lost along the way,some to be a river delta.

Dreams are alse, and yet dreamsdreamsare all those that Ive loved, let go by my heart.

ranslated by Nesrin Eruysal & Kenneth Rosen

KEN FIFER

Ater Edip Cansever

Begonias

Look how begonia petals all.One moment, theyre eedingrom the skys broad dish. Te next,each hair on your bodyis a gravestone, a monumentto another storm. Look at the skyalling on me like a begonia petalspinning in the wrong direction.

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You dont want to be the rst onewho notices the seasons over.And me neither. Te petalsdont know what they want.

Te conditions o the sky and winddisclose its uesday againwaxy,like this lea thats stillin my hand. Was itMonday my begonia bloomed?On my balcony, I thought:the sky must be out here somewhere.

Te sun is not important

it just has a ew more days to go.Tere are petals in my hand.where my ngers interlocknot cold but no longer warm.I am waiting or themto break into ower. I waited.o tell the truth, being mistakenis like seeing everything new.Its the dierence betweena garden and a balcony.

Ten I stopped. Was it Sundaythat the door bell rang? Was itthe door or the phone? Or both?Or the voice o a begonia?No, it wasnt that either.I didnt hear a voice. Why not?Somebody let my body gono,it was only your shadow in a cloud,only my hand shaking at all hourslike begonias on the balcony.Look at me driting outdoors.

A History o Water

Water presentsitsel in March,a darkening wind,a dampening cloud,

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an immodest partnera middling lie.When we holdeach other close enough,we seem to oat,searching our skinsor watermarks.We nd the wordsleaning to one side,overowing the passage,are born insidea water drop.When our body uids shout,begin by listening

to water,the message is passed onin a moutul o spit-at rst, an empty glass,later on, an empty house.

MARK COBLEY

I watch your lips orm the words

you smell o resh air.you are not here but in scotlandor in a cargoing to the seaside laughing.i see the stone walls, the curve o hillthe clouds.and in yours eyes reectedin the mirroryour turning away white teeth towards sheep.

it is misty. morning.i am stood in the gardenwhere silence can mean more.in the trees are your hair.i lost the last line

but it began withwe dont know each other anymore

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that it is all in codenumbers or letters.hills higher than your thought.

foating

i am araid to kiss.when you approach.

a derelict housein an acre o eldthe red hair

grie is a terrible monster.

merope

i will not visityouor your memoryover and over

blue white and dove greyare the colours o cloudbreath on a cold morningreectedhalo o the eyemy ace never to betouched byngerprint whorlwind caughtspunbut romhereto be goneis not darknessor blindnessor the treacherous sea inkrising and allingvioletade lightthin awayorever

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inthe hurt is withinwaveblackencover eyesin shamea spiralcheat death wise Sisyphusmy sisterssailorsloveryou will know me

no more.

HOR SEFANSSON

In Your Light

1Tere is nothing to regret.

Our separation awakespromises o reuniting.Without your presenceIm content with desire.Does satisaction everequal expectation?

2Our meetings always give pleasure.And yet sometimeswe are together or yearswithout noticing.Te multiplicity o lie

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is too much or one mind,the moments need peaceto be litin your eyesor res to amein your soul.

3My heart beatsskysteep

in my chest.Your sunconstantlyat its peakthrough mid-winter dayslighting the night-allsabove us.

4And lovein all this wreck?I write our nameson a piece o paperand sneak itto youwith pierced heart.

5Love doesnttarnish.It streams ahead

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with menace,digs a deep bed,leaps in a high waterall.Who would keep on swimmingin still waters?

6In your light I set eyeson the colours o my lovethough never possessing

all thats wonderul there.Your name alone will door the eeding o my ear.Its music is purerthan all the drums I hear.Your aura is owonderul warmth.But how can I achieve

that part in your karma?

7Souls touchand the body is orgottenbecause it is.Anguish oscillatesbetween the starsand ushes in the rmament.Beauty appearsin your eyes.Tats where I live.

8In this sunny summer

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delity hasbright wingsand under them both wind.And we ywith joyous heartsin separate directions.9God is three in one.Love is two in one.Man is one.

10Loveteaches usto live.Lieteaches usto love.

REE RIESENER

Ambergris

My mothersprayed hersel with dead whaleswhen she was wrapped in her silvery shawl,the way ambergiswraps around giant squid beaksstored in Jonahs rib-vaulted room,and my good-bye kisssmelled like woodlands,like spice, like owers,like the undernoteso beautiul ladies exotic ragranceon the tobacco stores thin coveted boxes o death.Oh, mother sleeping

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in earths censed bed,the spice o red wineno longer in your silver veins,I keep rosemary, owers, resiny winter r,thuriers o moonlight, sunlight, darklightabove your everlasting bed.

BARBARA CROOKER

Sunfowers

Tis time o year, the hot sun spiralling down on the armlands,

makes me think about Van Goghs wheat elds, the unrelentinglight, sky scratched with crows, their dark raucous chatterand I think about our short lives, cha in the wind,momentary in the darkening sky. I think abouthis cypresses, their black ames, his bruise-blueirises that wince against the yellow wall, the vaseo sunowers, those molten golds, the ercenesso their burning. Even the blues, Vincents blues,the cobalt intensity behind the yellow house,the thunderclouded sky, should cool us down, but dont.

Instead, they boil at low ame.He said in a letter to his brother, I am in it with allo my heart, and I am in it, too, this lie, with its longingand sorrows. When were gone, what will be let o our smallsongs and minor joys? Still, when I drive by a wheat eldturning ochre and amber, every awn and arista shouting sun!sun! sun! something in me rises, makes me lookor a scrap o paper, a pencil nub,even as the hot wind lits,blows the dust we are, carries it away

November

Te light o autumn: you will not be sparedLouise GlckTe burning bush has given up, slipped outo its scarlet dress, stripped downto twig and limb, bare bones,

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the architecture o itsel. Tis is the hearto autumn, ater the res gone out. Tis is the yearsdark dying, when my mother began to sliprom sight, as imperceptibly as the moonshits phases; each day, a little less light. Froststaken all the owers, the landscape, colorless,shades o ash and beige, husks and seedpods, what remains.

(Tese two poems are rom Crookers rst book, Radiance (Word Press, 2005)

HEDY HABRA

NarguilehI.rapped in his backyard,an old manthinks o cas,backgammon games, dicethrown over inlaid wood.Fingertips olded

on an empty palm, handrecapturing the lost motion,he draws on his pipe,reviving crackling embers,attentive to the divas deepvibrato, Feyrouz,Sabah, OmKolsoum.

II.He breeds canariesin a shed, eeds them eggshells, slices o apple.Each dawn, he hangscages on the trellisoverlooking the swingwaters his vegetables,precious seedsown rom ar away,curled cucumbers,

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a special vine rom Lebanonits silken leavest or stung.

III.Rolling patience beadsmade o coral,he sits or hoursunder the covered porch.Lips stuck to the tipo the painted pipe,he thanks the Lord,his grandchildren

would live reein the New World.Does it matter i,his soul sinksin an iridescent ask,blown into eddies o smoke?Eastern voices mixwith the birds song, Sabah,Om Kolsoum,Feyrouz.

IV.Careully kindling coalswith tongs, he watchesarabesques, swirls emergingrom underwater, imprisonedin the blown glass,bursting at the surace,deaened wordso a drowned Phoenician sailor.

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ABHA IYENGAR

G r i e

TinkingI have put it all behind meI walk,But my thoughts break my stride.I want to stop,Lean against a treeHold on to its roughnessFor comortAnd watch the leaves allWith my grie.

I walk onTe leaves all quietly behind me.

[First published in Poems Online, then in Dead Drunk Dublin]

A Passing o the ime

Another day that promises to sag

Te tightness o the morning jawCollapses into a nightWeary with loose jowls.Expectancy gives way toTe stains o dirty towelsTe morning bloom ades into the squalor o dusk.Labour turns homewards and sinks into whatever is rst.A woman with spirit, a bottle with noneBut the day is done.Te rough stubble on the jawIs just another sign.Crows eet orm Shivas tridentScarring bleary eyesAdrit on a sense o loss,A hazy memory o a kind.Almost all hope diesBut some is kept aliveFor death does not come easy and never overnight.It comes with each passing day, a passing o the time.

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AINE MAC AODHA

Remembering

When the ould pair diedthe music, or a whilewent also.A worn ddle hangsby the chunky accordion.Airs recalled,in snapshots o scenes-ddlers night on

local radio.Clearings on the linowaltzing to the beatone, two, threeUnder the watchul eyeo Blessed Oliver Plunkettthey glided.

I eel again the musicswell in me wherewinter visits oten.Like rivers that owto the cold Atlanticthe journey long.I listen to the wavesI hear them, themusic o the ould pair.(the ould pair, A way o saying the parents)

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CARLA SCARANO DANONIOWidening my circle

A mirage in a scalding desertmy grandmother materializes.She sits on a straw chairsewing or her seven children.Dried up to the essentialstooping to her work,her hands knotty and misshapenlike olive tree branches.How could you endure all that? I asked.

I had no choice, I was trapped.She stares at me with hopeul eyes,Let your lie ourish, dont deny.Te dunes hushchange their shapes,the track on the sandshows me the way.

Snow in the morning

White rootops and white lawn,the street in the ront covered with snowcars immovable, doors closed.No sounds no people,still sleeping like hibernating badgers.We start the day in the still air.It is the colour or the resh touchthat inspires my joy, past unwith parents, sister and riends.Up in the mountains, awayrom trac and rows, cut oin the mufed realm o snow.I had regular meals because o the pure air.Chill challenged my strength

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akes rested on my windcheater.As white as peaceas tall as a ortressthe snow protected my balance.

ROBERA BURNE

wo rom A Caliornia Childhood

Seven to Nine

Mother: the leather belts, thinand thick, alwaysover a long nail, hanging.Screen porch, the morning sun:I am oered the choicebelt, hand,switcheacha separate power.Nothing makes sense. Madereasonable by havingto think about choice, I deliberate.

I think I mustdeserve this passage, its a rule.She must but doesnt wantto choose. Te hand, the cuttingswitch, belts always there,hanging, ready to use.Used.

Back Yard, Bakersfeld, NineFor Basho

Summers morning heatthe trees or leaning.so many apricots uncountedon the uncut lawn aroundme and my thick book. anotherand later, another one-strokeplop. smashed orangey esh,ruit too ripe to eat. i I

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smear one on, its pulpwill eed my skin. sweetwasting smell.Keep the pages clean.

ABDLKADR PAKSOY

Autumn Flurry

Look autumn is backLeaning on the juniper scepterIt pulled out o the last re

Deep lonely river on its orehead.

Look autumn is back againNo hat,No shoes,Dressed only in its grieChanting about ate like a dervish.

Look autumn is back againAnd Im still waiting or my ship to come in;

Autumns back but the ship has been scrapped.Te cellar is emptyWhat will become o us now?My mother isnt here any longer.Shed know how to make ends meet.

Every year is always the same.Im not expecting anybodyIve pushed away my neighbors and riends When autumn knocks at the doorJust as Im all ready to leave.

ranslated by Nesrin Eruysal & Ken Fier

GEOFF COOPER

From the Heavens

He lived in a book-lined Scottish cottage

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a neat little man, nothing kenspecklejust two eyes like violet lasersto cut diamond through and throughto shear hypocrisy away

His books were not decoration or social weaponshe could talk eons o history so uentlyDuns Scotus, Arbroath, the Edinburgh o Hulmethe rankest understanding o his countrys daysthe nest owers o Scotland, those two blue eyes

I believe that almost as soon as he could speakhe would say No to war yet he volunteered in 39or the ront line as a paramedic

dropped with the D Day paratroopson the Cotentin, in the very rst wave

But one bright day he knocked so gentlyat my door. Only dullness, only occlusion,in his eyes. He spoke one sentence -you do not needto do my garden anymoreTen slowly, eebly, walked away

We knew a ew hours later and I elt as iall the best o us, all o the nest things -- all his erce and earless love -had somehow passed away

It was a bright spring Scottish daycold and cool by turns

It was utter eclipse, it was our midnightit was the burning outo one irreplaceable star.

SCO M. POER

Friends Are

Move the detritus o deleterious subterranean termitesInto swaths o memories o old riends gone by the byMermaids and mermen to me, lurking shores untread on lonely nights

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Old riends and their ghosts haunt the waves splashing on whyChange guards into airies rolicking deep groves o selSo that what was no longer rules what is and will beInstead, place the best o encounters on the highest shelo eagerly peer at when one most needs to engage rememoryWhen in the place o meditative glory in early morning hoursWhat riends are and were melts into rainbows o gleeTus illuminating bonds and unspoken thoughts with words powerAnd signiying changes that rely not on the you that is you or me.

ANJAN SEN

VillageSorrows amily has letIts rundown ancestral homeHeading down the path o poverty

Te universe will be a village, my dear.

Original title Graam ranslated by Jesse Knutson, Collected in Gharbahir inAustric-Special issue on Anjan Sen 2007).

Shadow

Te shadow shakesTe shadows shadow oatsIn the room on the edge o the riverLong long painted scrollsTe story comes in pieces and goes onIn the minds long painted scrollLong painted eyes a body in the eyesBut shes not at homeTeres no speech, only speechs shadowTese images rom wordsAll blessed illusion

ranslated by Jesse Knutson

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Jal / PaaniShould we call it jalor paaniOn jalpaanishe has crossed the seasLook the river o lie is dyingTe land is divided in the name oIswar AllahTe broken room houses a bodyTe mind has gone , unhingedTe child said Ma AmmaShe a blurLanguage is being partitionedLanguage the dance o light in all directionsLanguage is myJalland PaaniskyBR R EAH

May it attain completeness.OriginalBengali title Jal/Paani, composed and rst published in ista orsha, 1996/ Collected in Bhando Bevando2002

(Note : water: a Hindu Bengali will call Jaland a Muslim Bengali will call Paani.Jalpaani in Bengali means scholarship. Iswarand Allah : god or Hindu and Mus-lims respectively.

ranslated by: E.V.Ramakrishnan

ULUER AYDOGDU

o sojourn into consciousness: For Exodus (1)-o seem to have been inside what is within-

He arose and departedno one waved their handsno one wasted a little waterblessing his path o departurehaving rst wrapped it careullyhe removed his home rom the streetput the street on his shoulderand took it away rom the neighborhoodall its inhabitants were still asleephaving then wrapped the neighborhoodin a bundle he took it away rom the cityno one observed what he had done

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as i it were somehow orbiddento take such things rom the countryhe removed the city secretlyand the country rattled once or twicemoved rom one side to the otheras he was wearing a grin lopsidedjust on one side o his mouthtook the world rom the universeand then stopped or a whiletired o ceaselessly taking things awaybut he had added a pinch o himselsuch a dishonest guyso he took himselback out o the universe

got lost without complainingand I smiled at himas I watched all o thisrom behind.

ranslated by Nesrin Eruysal and Kenneth Rosen

1- I I hadnt had breakast with Jacques Prvert, I could never have written thispoem.

CHARLES CLIFFORD BROOKS IIIBlue Sunday

Neglected, a koi pondneeds the leaves raked out.Tis weatheris sicklyand it lays down dullover pale esh.

Lethargykeeps the mind o cutting grass,nding a new garbage man,paying or new tags.

Someones obsessivelyshooting a shotgun.

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Loud rednecks in a truckride up and backthe paved drive outsidewhich turns into a dirt road.

Te earth has swallowedme whole.

How Far into this umultuous Night

A staggering amount o hoursare spent staring o.

From bed I wonderwhy Im awake exactly on the houras i the hourwouldnt arrivei I werent there.

Eyes are open in the arthest corner.ime watches my discomort.Silence is screamingI cant stand.

Knees tucked up into my chest,light will come like a hangover.Roosters crow too soon.

Sunlight Carves My Chaos

I drag a dread behind my walking,a eeling that worsens with dawns damned knocking.At the hour lovers slip out, snags caught in their stockings,morning dew is a sickness, its presence mockingmy splendor in the silver seconds beore sunrise,crushed by early birds, then Christians in neck ties.

Te sun stubbornly returns eager to tellthe regular man to rise, and me to be still.Suns harsh eet do stomp with ruthless thrill,imps scratching daybreak across my windowsill.Absent o the night Im beuddled as Hamlets ather,pretending the noon-day-mundane isnt a bother.

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Oozing around these thick shades I see,that dress socks are in someone elses amily tree.Come twilight hours! Cupid sings or the city.o undulating concrete, a stormy, starry sea,searching out Psyche on ragile waves o oblivion,sleepless heathen in command o the Flying Dutchman.

Nocturnal morals allow vanity, gluttony, and lust.I accept the monster, the virgin, the elasticity o trust.Under this moonlit graceoods color, the lark, and her ace.Madam Midnight, the rabble has bedded down.I dont have to be the charmer, the saint, the clown.I am alchemy o odd hours, the innocent devils helper,

no conscience, no witnesses, a happy social leper.

FABIANO ALBORGHEIPoems romRegistro dei ragili / Te Weaklings RegisterCasagrande Editore, 2009

ITen her son got lost, suddenly in the squareamong the crowd theres a new space where he stood:and no one who knew, no one that had seen

a t-shirt with purple stripes, his red cap on his head.What do you know o the right I got she shouted right in his acewhat do you know o a mother being crippled

what do you know she repeated o the most terriying ideasand hands on his shoulders she shook him like a rag.What do you know o all Ive given up or youo the pain o giving birth which splits your aithwhat do you know o body against body making room in those monthsor the space you claim, what do you know

you know nothing: o lie that changes and timethat gets lostshrinking to disappear and disappearing takes you with it

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it ows rom year to year and sees your becoming.What do you know who are nothingo my lie going to pieces genuecting every day

the lie you plunder by being ever-presentYou dont know the eort it takes to go onyou dont know that to have you I gave up all the restand lets go home now its besthold my hand tight and Ill lead you all the way home.She went on more calmly: Every mother is the memory

o the Christ they tell o, but in act its that motherwho stays in the shadow and dies

who suers or the deathstanding at the oot o every hill.

IITey never had a party, no child was invitedto celebrate his birthday no coke and chipsand no cake with presents no games till late

but shouting in the living-roomthat good manners come rom controland home is no place or noise and rowdiness.Youre not the one who cleans up she told him explainingits not you that spends the money its not youthat has to look ater a gaggle o over-excited kidsand can you tell me what happens i someone gets hurt?Its not you that stops them eating like animalswatching the orangeade that gives them indigestionyoure not the one that has to explain at days endi someone hurts himsel i someone alls overIm no nurseand i someone gets hurt theyll go and lodge a complaint.I never had parties and does it look as i Im sorry?Its or people without valuestheyre just parents incapable o bringing up their kids

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IIIAre you happy to come on this ride he said standing at the tillwith the queue o people waiting to get on the carouseland he held him by the shoulders to stop him going owhile all around the attractions, all the sounds o the unair.I dont understand your decision he asked him in a murmurwanting things that stand still with so much else to try:look at the Big Spinneror the Vessel o Deaththose are the real things not these horses lip-curlingnot this sissy music

but the thrill o the void. He pointed to the horizonhe showed him the Tunderbirdinsistingthat when youre a man some things are betternot these sissy merry-go-rounds and he askedshall we have a go?Te child said nothing but shook his head a littlehe remembered the year beore hed already been up thereand the emptiness in his tummy this thrust that empties you

as everything whirls around and you dont where to hold onas the emptiness is growing and the pitching continuesas youre gasping or air and he started to be sickand his ather was shouting, took him to the toiletsto wash o the shame, grieving or his manly son

IV

Hed taken the trainer-wheels o the bike to ridelike a grown-up he told him as the child pedaledclutching the handlebars, his balance wobblinglike one who would go straight with nothing to lean on...

VIt had to be explained that black eye

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not normal they said in a child o that age.He repeated a all, an accident on the stairs

coming home in the aternoonbut the neighbor heard the screamsand the mother denied everything: hes a child a bit careless

cuts the corners when hes playing.Pale blue arms in the poolblended with the waterand no one saw them and no one talked o themsince a child is a bit carelessand the extreme consequence is normal

i seen in other shapes

VI

Not among city scenes but in the quiet o gardensin the quiet o amilies with car parks everywherewith the shopping mall

with the main street a spit where they promenadein the sticks something happens and everyones a witnesssooner or later they all saw but no one while it was happening

never anyone who suspects that something should be stopped.Te murder happened and this shakes the amiliesthe most Christian consciences:in the village they said that something w

Documents

Melancholy and Memory / Hüzün ve Hatıra