Archive for February, 2013

Thinking of you by Nazim Hikmet

Thinking of you is pretty, hopeful,
It is like listening to the most beautiful song
From the most beautiful voice on earth…
But hope is not enough for me any more,
I don’t want to listen to songs any more,
I want to sing.

There is one thing I learned from what I lived by Can Yucel

There is one thing I learned from what I lived:
When you live something, you must live it fully
Your lover must be exhausted from your kisses
You must be exhausted from smelling a flower

One can look at the sky for hours
One can look for hours at the sea, at a bird, at a child
Living on this world is being one with it
Growing unbreakable roots into it

When you hug your friend, you must do it with all your power
You must be in a fight with all your muscles, body and passion
And when you lie on the hot sand,
You must rest like a grain of sand, like a leaf, like a stone

One must listen to all the beautiful music
Such that the sounds, the melodies fill inside

One must dive headfirst into this life
Like diving from a rock into an emerald sea

People you don’t know must attract you to distant lands
You must live with the desire to read all the books and to know all the lives
You must exchange nothing with the happiness of drinking a glass of water
But for all the happiness there is, you must be filed with the longing to live

And you must also live grief, with honor, with all your presence
Because grief also maturates one, like happiness
Your blood must be intermixed with the large circulation of life
The never ending, fresh blood of life must circulate in your veins

There is one thing I learned from what I lived:
When you live, you must live big, like being one with the rivers, the sky, and the whole universe
Because what we call lifetime is a gift presented to life
And life is a gift presented to you.

Love Requires Two People by Ataol Behramoglu

Direction of the wind changes

Leaves fade suddenly

The ship loses its way on the sea

looks for a harbor in vain

Laughter of a stranger

has already stolen your lover;

The poison gathered in you

will kill only itself

The only thing experienced alone is death

Love requires two people

Even its a memory did not remain

from lovemaking during nights

The skin I touched thousands times

the poems you can write is thousands year far.

Blue Eyed Giant by Nazim Hikmet

He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman.
The woman’s dream was of a miniature house
with a garden where honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.

The giant loved like a giant,
and his hands were used to such big things
that the giant could not
make the building,
could not knock on the door
of the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
at that house.

He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman,
a mini miniature woman.
The woman was hungry for comfort
and tired of the giant’s long strides.
And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf
with a garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.

Now the blue-eyed giant realizes,
a giant isn’t even a graveyard for love:
in the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house…