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swap words

swap words                   

 

 

I called out by my clear voice

         on the even and smooth flow of the river:

                  

my tongue! the painter bird!                  

no formats of the feelings                  

make my dreams colorful                   

 

over there a man                   

with thin and talented fingers                    

making amphoras                  

 

where can we keep the words                  

if everything flows?                  

 

if you’re a poet, you’re a tailor                  

no matter if with your feelings                  

you jump into the river once more                  

or cloth out in pattern

 

only if I had left myself into the flood of the feelings,

         would I not have been so dirty

 

while the things making                   

love with the words                   

the feelings with the things                  

‘I could’ve looked more beautiful and younger                    

         with magic formula of skin cream’, and me, too!

         

I run out of poems if I give up feelings                  

the scissors opens wide if I handle them.

 

what a terrible swap !

               

İlyas Tunç                   

Translated from Turkish by Leonard Durso
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Cüzam

Cüzam

         Dokunmak ürperti yaratmıyorsa duyargalar körelmiş demektir. O zaman algının seçiciliği ortadan kalkar, yerini anlamsızlık alır. Hayatımıza zevk veren şey, yalnızca anlamdır: Neyin ne olduğunu bilmek! Sanıldığı gibi duyargalar zevk değil, bilgi verir.

         Karıncalar yaprak bitleriyle toz zerreciklerini birbirinden ayırsa da bunları bilgiye dönüştüremezler; öyleyse, zevk de almazlar.

         Ben, karınca değilim!

         Kasların miskinliğinden kurtulmalıyım; bahçeye iniyorum. Eğreltiler, aslanağızları, güzelavratotları…  Bana dokun, bana dokun, diyor bir ses. Gidip dokunuyorum: O, sensin !

         Dokunmak, uzaklığı ortadan kaldırır. Uzaklık kalkınca seyretmek sona erer, gövdelerin şarkısı başlar. Baştan çıkarıcım benim! Ritmine bayılıyorum; körfezlerine… Adını sakladım; söylersem tabular yıkılacak. Sözcüklerin paylaştırma gücü var; bahçemize girmesinler. Bütün büyü parmaklarımızın ucunda. Beni parmak uçlarınla sev; şarkımız gürültüye dönüşebilir.

         Ne derin kitapsın ki anladıkça batıyorum. Gidersem gücenme, eksiklik bende. Sen birini bul; ya da dokun kendine. En korkunç hastalık cüzamdır.

         Yarayı aşk iyileştirir.

İlyas TUNÇ

 

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LEPROSY

LEPROSY

If touching doesn’t cause sensation, it means that antenna have been insensible. Then, diognosis of perception disappears and meaninglessness takes its place. Meaning is the only thing which gives joy to life: Knowing what is what! As thought, antennas don’t give joy, but knowledge.

            Although ants distiguish leaf louses and dust motes, they can’t transform it into knowledge. If so, they don’t feel joy, either.

            I am not an ant!

            I must shake off the laziness of muscles, and now I am walking through the plants in the garden: Ferns, snapdragons, belladones… Touch me, touch me, says a voice. I’m going and touching: It is you that I touched!

            Touching removes distance. At the moment when distance is removed, contemplating comes to the end, and bodies touch each other in fire of love. You! My  excitant woman! The rhythm of your kisses allures me and your buttocks… I keep your name as a secret. If I cry it out, taboos can be broken down. Words have a power of sharing. I want nobody to enter in our garden to join the songs of our bodies. The whole magic is on the edges of our fingers. Caress me with you fingers. Otherwise, our love songs will turn into a noise.

            You are like a deeply detailed book that I get drowned in its pages. If I leave you, don’t feel upset. I am the cause of impotence. Find a new partner, or caress yourself. The most dreadful disease is leprosy.

            It is love what heals wounds.

İlyas TUNÇ

Translated Turkish by Leonard Durso

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accident

accident

it was rainy
lamps vomiting their lights
over the roads we passed frantically
and life
sliding so delicately
under our steps

dearest, forgive me
had i thought that your arms you locked around my waist
to be a seatbelt,
had i passed the red light,
had i passed on the left side!

before our bodies go scrap
we asked God for some time
to step a bit more on the gas
to exceed the speed limit
of this love

it was rainy
lamps vomiting their lights
over the roads we passed frantically
yet, wipers were not working …

dearest! the same serum sufficing for us
let us have the same blood in our veins
let us take a look at the same side mirror
to see what we left behind
speed shrinks the place
in any case…

dearest! we are each other’s murderer
our identity shall be figured out
by the lip prints stuck on the windshield

still this regret will not do for us
because it keeps raining
and life
sliding so delicately
under the steps

İlyas Tunç
November 2010, İnceburun

Çeviren: Mesut Şenol
Papirüs Poetry Collection
May-June 2011, Issue: 4

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zulu love letter

zulu love letter

out of a baobab tree
into the calabash bowl
two lightning bugs fell …

mbali, loves sprout in darkness
begging for moisture and warmth
let us have our lights turned off,
let us cry in unison
let us smooch

parting; that of killer frog
looks waiting, lurking!

maybe a preoccupied hand in the morning
by dipping the calabash in the water
shall drown us by mistake
us;
two small lighting bugs

if only i would have loved you like a hippopotamus

you mbali your lips how thick,
as you kiss as deep as black
i turn pale out of fear

one day
should an elephant run over an African violet
or should an African violet
put a love letter written with beads
on the neck of a white elephant
that is to say, if the killer frog gets out of its ambush
then just weave this love letter in two colors

black:
i miss you so much
i became pitch black like the beams of my hut

blue:
i would have flown to your land had i been a dove
and i would have been fed by the crumbs you would have left right at your door

ngiyakuthanda, mbali
ngiyakuthanda

İlyas Tunç
November 2010, Sinop

Translated from Turkish by Mesut Şenol

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Van sand het ons gepraat

Van sand het ons gepraat

oor sand het ons gesels …

ons het die weerstand van skulpe verpletter, ons het gepraat oor versonke stede, gwebroek amfora’s, ondergrondse bewegings van sand; ons het gepraat oor die verval in vergetelheid van erbarmlikhede, oor blootse voetspore … ons het nie vergeet van die wandelhoofde van hout, dooie stormwind-lampe, geroeste ankers nie… ons het die ligvlekke op die maan wat in die see weerspieël word ook bygehaal, ons het oor Venus gepraat, die glorieryke liefde van die nag, en ander dinge …

want die wyn had ’n goedheid, die liefde van tydeloosheid, en die dolfyn ’n wysheid … ons het dit gesê, noudat die speeltros losgebind is, ons die stuurroede van ons dae hersien het …. het ons gesê … laat ons praat …

so praat hét ons …

ons het nie na stervisse verwys nie, na helderglinsterend gestreepte vis of die ligsinnigheid van wiere, die diepe slaap van jellievisse op die sand … ons het die spoelklippies oor die hoof gesien, die teervlekke, die reuk van gebrande olie … ’n verbaasde inkvis was in ons nette vasgekeer; maar ons het net gepraat …

oor delikate dinge …

oor sand …

İlyas Tunç

translated into Afrikaans by Charl-Pierre Naudé

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kumdan konuştuk

 

         kumdan konuştuk…

kırdık deniz kabuklarının sır vermezliğini; batık kentlerden, kırık amforalardan, derinlerdeki kıpırtılardan konuştuk… kumdan; dağılıp giden inceliklerden, çıplak ayak izlerinden… unutmadık ahşap iskeleleri, ölgün fenerleri, paslı demirleri… unutmadık suya düşen ay tanelerini, zühre yıldızını, gecenin görkemli sevgisini, daha başka şeyleri de…

çünkü şarabın iyiliği vardı, aşkların eskimezliği, yunusların bilgeliği… dedik, madem ki çözüldü çıma, mademki yitirdik yekesini günlerin, konuşalım…

         konuştuk…          

derisi dikenlilere, lapinalara, ahtapotlara değinmedik hiç… es geçtik yengecin yanlışlığını, yosunun sorumsuzluğunu, kıyıya vuran dalgınlığını medüzün, es geçtik çakıl taşlarını, katran lekelerini, yanık mazot kokularını… şaşkın bir mürekkep balığı takılmıştı ağımıza; biz yalnızca konuşuyorduk…

         ince şeylerden…

         kumdan…

İlyas Tunç

‘Sesler İncelikler’ adlı kitabından
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we spoke of sand

 

          we spoke of sand…

 

we broke the resistance of shells. we spoke of sunken cities, 

broken amphoras, past loves… of sand. we spoke of kindnesses 

fallen into oblivion, barefoot prints... we didn’t forget wooden 

piers, dead hurricane lamps, rusted anchors… we included flecks 

of moonlight reflecting on the sea. we spoke of Venus, of the 

glorious love of the night, and other things…

 

for the wine had a goodness, the love was ageless, the dolphin 

embodied wisdom… now that the hawser had beed untied, now that 

we had redirected the rudder of our days, we said let’s talk…

         so we talked …

 

we didn’t refer to brilliantly striped fish, or octopi, or 

starfish… we overlooked the faults of crabs, the flightiness of 

algae, the deep sleep of jellyfish on the sand… we passed over 

pebbles, tar stains, the smell of burnt oil… a surprised squid 

was caught in our net, but we were 

only speaking…

 

         of delicate things,

         of sand…

 

İlyas Tunç

Translated from Turkish by the poet and Robert Berold

 

Mouse Poetry Magazine,July 2009, issue:5

(Zhejiang University, China)

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swap words

swap words                       I called out by my clear...

Cüzam

Cüzam          Dokunmak ürperti yaratmıyorsa duyargalar körelmiş demektir. O...

LEPROSY

LEPROSY If touching doesn’t cause sensation, it means that antenna have been...

accident

accident it was rainy lamps vomiting their lights over the roads we passed...

zulu love letter

zulu love letter out of a baobab tree into the calabash bowl two lightning bugs fell...

Van sand het ons gepraat

Van sand het ons gepraat oor sand het ons gesels … ons het die weerstand van skulpe...

kumdan konuştuk

           kumdan konuştuk… kırdık deniz kabuklarının sır...

we spoke of sand

            we spoke of sand…   we broke the resistance of...