Archive for the ‘English’ Category

Falsely Yours by Charles Bukowski

My dear,

Find what you love and let it kill you.
Let it drain you of your all.
Let it cling onto your back
and weigh you down into
eventual nothingness.
Let it kill you and let it
devour your remains.
For all things will kill you,
both slowly and fastly, but
it’s much better to be killed by a lover.

Falsely yours

Bluebird by Charles Bukowski

There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see

There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
in there.

There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
you want to blow my book sales in

There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
and we sleep together like
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do you?

I Can’t Tell by Orhan Veli

If I cry, can you hear my voice,
In my lines;
Can you touch,
My tears, with your hands?
I didn’t know that songs were this beautiful,
Whereas words were this insufficient
Before I had this trouble.
There is a place, I know;
It is possible to say everything;
I am pretty close, I can feel;
I can’t tell.

I Want To Die Before You by Nazim Hikmet

I want to die before you.
Do you suppose that
the one who comes later
will find the one who has already gone?
I don’t think so.

You’d better have me burned and
keep me in a jar on the stove in your room.
The jar should be made of glass,
transparent, white glass
so that you can see me in it.

You see my sacrifice:
I gave up being soil,
I gave up being flower,
just to be able to stay by you.
And I’m becoming dust
for living near you.

Later, when you die as well,
you come into my jar.
And we live there together,
your ash within mine,
until an untidy bride
or an unfaithful grandchild
throws us away…

But till then
we will so much mix with eachother that
even in the dump into which we’re thrown,
our motes will fall side to side.

We will sink into the soil together.
And if a wild flower
gets damp from this piece of soil and blossoms one day,
two flowers will certainly bloom on its stem:
One is you
And the other is me.

I don’t think of death yet.
I will give birth to one more child.
Life is overflowing inside me.
I’m still full of beans.
I will live but for a long time, very long time,
but together with you.
In fact death doesn’t frighten me as well.
I just find our funeral ceremony
very unlikable.
But this probably gets better,
until I die.
Do you have a possibility to get out of prison nowadays?
Something inside me says:

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…

I Realized by Can Yucel

All this time what you were trying to tell me
I realized when I had found myself..

Everyone has different ways to be happy
I realized when I had found my way..

Life was learnt by living only, not by reading or listening
I realized when you did not tell me what you know..

Every day was a lost day if you don’t have love in your heart
I realized why you had run after love like mad..

When the pain is so strong, no tears come from eyes, they say
I realized why you never cried..

They say making a crying one smile is more valuable
than crying with him
I realized when you had transformed my tears into a smile..

They say anybody can break your heart but
only the most loved one can hurt
I realized when you hurt me so much..

But, they say,
beloved one deserves every single drop of tear you shed
I realized when my joy had left together with tears..

It was not ‘not lying’, but, not ‘hiding the truth’
was the real gift
I realized when you had placed your hand on my heart..

Being able to say “I need you. come now” was the real power
I realized when I had said to you ‘go’ ..

Love was being able to say ‘I want you to stay’
when someone said to you ‘go’
I realized when I was told to go and I had gone..

My love for you was like a kid crying like a baby when he fell
I realized when it had grown up and had wrapped me tightly..

They say regret is not apoligizing
it is wanting to scream ‘forgive me’
I realized when I really had regretted

And, they say pride is a mask for losers for weak
hearts full of love dont have pride
I realized when I had found love in my heart..

One who wants desperately , does not wait,
only expects to be forgiven one day
I realized when I had wanted you to forgive me desperately..

Love was an endeavour,
and the endeavour was to love such a way you could never abandon it
but you could set it free..

I realized.

Yet Each Man Kills The Thing He Loves

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.


Come Come…

“Come, come again, whoever you are, come!
Heathen, fire worshipper or idolatrous, come!
Come even if you broke your penitence a hundred times,
Ours is the portal of hope, come as you are.”