POETRY TABLETS
SCARLET HORSES OF FIRE
POET:
DURSUN OZDEN
May 2013
Translation:
Betül Akdağ
YOLERI PRESS
fidel cried
venceremos
laughing-crying
ours was a smart revenge
a picture of peace and love
the half blood princess of caribbean
poor and happy in a light harvest,
in a mortar, in mid air- havana cigar
talismanic-hermetic rebel molasses
manes of freedom, prince of loyalty
serene sound of beginning and ending
a missing tale, not a utopia
the story of our fidel
the black fate of golden africa
vulture fodder is mary of the sudan
the children of felluca resistant to death
palestinian ali defies tanks with stones
how many springs passed since the last peace?
a mother branded her face, a glowing heart her hand
he sniffed and kissed the burnt babies – fidel cried
their intuitions would rebound- tears of homeless time
plentiful and fertile earth – as white as a mother’s milk
tattoos on children’s faces came alive
they measured feeling and patience on the verge of death
silent scream echoed in cosmos- stars burnt out
zigzaggy death machine-yankee relied on dollar
fidel touched the voice of living babies and cried
demon of hell, crook and killer- fright and ravage
dervish deserving heaven- hero of silence- honour of orphans
where are hope, happiness and human pride
gene asylum- pentagon, blood museum of the west on the cross
a horny glowed hurricane- coming is a steed at full gallop
the last hope of the resurged children
the redeemer
brought into existence by time
snow setting fire to white rose of triumph
divine hand killing the fire of death
I do not want to cry for the dead
you also do not cry for them fidel
while you sleep
while you sleep, thousand candles burnt my eyes
I thought blind fire was luck, candles cried
while you sleep, full moon milked all of the light
while you sleep on my knee, wine was orchard
sea blazed in the arms of the sun
while you sleep, blue cloud rained and cried
while you sleep, your eye was a mountain in my eye
while you sleep, I was on guard, love alive
magic land sleeping in my palm
delirious and oneiric river in my heart
the expansive shelight inside was my love
the green poison of separation in its filter
while you sleep, your eye was a mountain in my eye
while you sleep, I was on guard, love alive
ways evanished, I reached inside of myself
as I kissed, I thought you were an amaranth violet
love rose from remonstrance, love angel from fire
I burnt in the blue light of your steel sound
while you sleep, your eye was a mountain in my eye
while you sleep, I was on guard, love alive
anatolia
aware of difference- sky god
more courageous than eurasia bustard
anatolian harvest is blessed
jade love of scarlet horses of fire
of dreamland and atlantis
marquee with its golden poles
ten thousand years old
tender and tall
rose of love
sumerian
kohled
ilmiye çığ*
doomed to fire
lunatic god, motley dawn
lilith was the first of sin and love
midas is a deaf-mute ear with an earring
holy healer, shaman mother
her hennaed white hand is a tablet
honest prometheus healed by kibele resurged
in that graveyard
the soil lying to death and
quaffing blood
endless and timeless
mother of lost civilization
way of ancestors
homeland
kemal’s daughter
in the light of
hittite sun
her arm shook
and rebelled
with thousand of gods in
full of mothers
anatolia
undertow
anatolia
ma
*Muazzez İlmiye Çığ is a Turkish archaeologist and assyriologist who specialized in the study of Sumerian civilization.
mevlana
of karamans crazy dervish neyzen of konya for peace and love that rotation goes on and we fall in a fire and we are whirling ah invocation huu dance heaven we are all in the sky – we are endless and timeless in nonentity and nihil – in existence rich and fertile charities we came alive in an only body reed not other, not me, all of us huu in which me and self melt one- at the centre of world in harmony – in the lost time spindle rotates my head spins in the last breath-candle died-cried as I kissed the love tree a touch of hope blue eye of water- şems of tebriz- salina was burnt inner revolution all the loves bridge to future your eye was a mountain in mine – hittite sun – anatolia milked love affair moment mevlana master wine hu u
they were always like this
they were always like this
first they molested the sun
then raped the known history
they scattered the silk and spice to roads
did the dovetail change its way
a crane on the telegraph wires
broken dreams – fish of dry lake
they fired the cyan in the sky
they opened glassy black eyes
they were always like this
they sprinkled water in which dead people were washed
their faces did not feel pain in water
water burnt, earth bled
while starving for water and soil
they gave children iron flowers
instead of bread and book
they were always like this
by sucking our variegated blood
vomited our feces too
they hanged us
without exception red
sallow or black
they coined money of our skin
when the confused bomb in their bloody hands
took the wrong way
they scattered heads to schoolyards
they were always like this
accursed death machines
they cut blessed breasts
of heartsick women giving milk
so that children would not suck
in order that they would die
they forgot the heads of children in naphtha holes
and locked the doors of heaven
sacksful of fresh children heads
a photo of a grinning hyena in its shadow
frozen hearts keeping silent
the eery clouds, fear and sorrow
so that tomorrow would not come
they were always like this
dash away your tears my angel
peace and love global- inner
white feathers are everywhere
look, pigeons are rotating
universe is dreamland; creatures are good morning
world keeps turning just as in its first day
free and elated moon swings in whitish nights
we are all like this in the light of lost time
it was midday; stars started to dance
while the dawn breaks, they were always like this
my soul rose garden
anatolia dreamland
oh beloved, the rose of dreamland
I have something to say
silent words
wriggle, babble
and echo through verses
the mountains the ears of which ring
wanderer dervish, comrade of dream
plant poem, tie spikes
nomad of bolkar, dervish
my fiery heart saw into
betrayal and prayer
brooks flow passion and vigour out
knowing eon their own right
infinite is in my palms
mad and his childish heart
lantern of lost time
hennaed spring asleep
sadness is an abyss, smiles
moon is down, sun is to come up
in the sempiternal sky of poems
moony, roseate muslin clouds
in the sea of love hysteric-mumbling
misty night-hoary shaman and his rattle
all of us pursued an old dream
craggy mountains are lovesick-petted
famished and snowy white my bright angel
dog days of summer in south-orange time
I have molten in my lover’s chest
speechless
away from tomorrow
I talk inside
my lunatic destiny
my instrument makes your sound
my mother tongue turkish, my endless love
water is fire, love is poetry, and my verse is ballad
heart of bard is a volcano; his spring is love
I spun yarn, suffered a lot
and quaffed the wine of love
the last fire, the last breath
flowing from you to me
farewell is equal to death
dying self is stone of patience
mother-naked, birthday suit
yet you are my purity
the only pleasure of my penniless heart, love
I walk the long way of fire
my heart is fire scene
barefoot
am I the one being crimson as wine
the one flying like a bird and slithering
am I that bard with a pigeon in his heart
the one looking with the eye of desire
the door of my heart is open, step in
not from the threshold, but from inside of me
I have arrived by drilling cliffs to taste your flavour
you, the valley grape of the orchard of my heart
I will die for you then come alive inside of you
you, the huge dream tree the shadow of which embrace the whole universe
roads know me: the man of the roads, birds of passage, and dervish
I looked for you everywhere in universe, finally found in my self
my heart is the garden of roses-anatolia is dreamland
I am not inside of me: mad, factoid, and runaway
break your chains, tremble, shake yourself and come inside
imazighen dance
who is that one burning in fire
a drop of water, thousands of lives
is that myself inside of me
something flows ray by ray
to its spring from the well of love
there exists evil eye traces in your sea eyes
seeing the tiniest eye of water
ours is a path of hope, reaching the sun
golden haired summer is a lovesick girl whose load is salt
perseveres- berber horses make faraway into close
the great sahara is too small for mustafa kemal
now that france has jean darc
berbers have el-kahine
red lizard the train passing through love tunnel
dear rim, I will wait for you at the phosphate station
destiny scraped on our heart is a wound
as black as depths of black africa
ancestor of humanity, culture crown, private of freedom
tuareg, berber, san bushmen becoming extinct
when as our love falling in deserts is a drop of ocean
date eyes are fountains, mind is source of life
entrance gate and threshold of the infinite
our blind love is the light of lost time
once the stars blink in the black hair tents
berber dance starts at underworld embrasures
since yesterday, there have been desert lions in sahara and oasis
freedom torch is the last deserter and the first berber
I laid the sun and moon at your feet, the hand of bride
the last picture putting the finger on my soul is dangerous
me, the sufi dervish whirling
while cobra blowing reed, hitting a tambourine and dhikring
shahmaran falls asleep when I touch
the earth falls into dreams- heavenly
lip marks are side by side- burning
not poison, zam-zam and wine we drink
from magma of poetry, thirstily
people are equal and fellow
no war-yes peace
let us focus on love
at that moment universe is narrow
starts imazighen dance not games to die
crazy dervish
me
neither a commander
nor
wealthy
dream fellow
poor dervish
I am a jade colt
my love is unrequited
key of the hearts
running iron
a good horse is called bay
a good man is called batty
dervish of cosmos
through a lifetime having no beginning or end
I have lived with all of you
namely just beside your winds
your breaths, fights, loves and dreams
in a triangle loaded of energy
mortal as if he were never to die
I wave in a desert sea- tide
a swan of baize in full moon time
my shadow and nails became longer- reward
I got tired of lying on a dream
a prisoner of being a human –captive
joseph is at the bottom of the pit
mustafa is at the desperate peak
kemal, yunus, mevlana- sufism
you shivering inside of me, the profound head
alpha of cosmos ran to seed
we are teeth of love shells in garden of dreams
“while palms hide kisses” we neigh
black horses are steed, rivers are shahmaran
flos elaeagni is snowdrop, waterless sea
bee with no honey and us
are at the head of spring
I have followed a canis lupus-man of ways
then pitched a marquee, got caught into net, cried
my tear was a drop of ocean- elbow grease
I loved, burnt and swallowed a volcano
then reached the mountains- challenged to seas
the mad of earth, saint of universe
wind rose, wind of taurus, flood of dreamland
runner nomad, dervish of cosmos-my hand
away from the life, close to it
that poem is for you
read mavournin
Istanbul
seven seasons, seven regions, seven hills
where the dreams join together spreading
well! kings, sultans, robbers and sevens
ravened Istanbul but they could not consume
clover in my heart, rhapsodic river, cascade
house of tulips, tulipas- istanbul
crowned of all flowers, major remedy of beauty
whirling in the dance of souls, how the mighty have fallen
in pursuit of elapsing and lost, nightwalker flower
come before death, set a slice of smile
dells of dawn is captive and atrabilious cry of a gull
a mournful stream flows, kissing shores
I hold on you istanbul, free and childish
I eclipsed by you istanbul, my eyeful
aşukiye
all pollution of town descended over me, here
a breath through winded nights, one more
I long for green, blue, yellow pine and rainbows
thirsty for love and snow storm, my flesh is in tatters
a still sunday morning, my hand reached to the sky
it was love then I am in maşukiye again greening in my dreams
peak of a lost love, hey grand hill, kartepe
I am free sprawling on your bed
a mysterious, magical sufi tune calls bard
azan or coy, which one is writing that poem on the sky
one of my eyes is sapanca, the other is cove, watch the scene
we stomp together with meadows, snowdrops, kemancha and reed
cherkes beauty walks down the river telling “favour”
while you sleep in my eyes, yours used to weave love, eternal
I am in dreamland, I am the sacred phoenix, one side of me is caucasian
as I drink from spout, I feel thirsty for love, another vessel and another
freesia
sunrise freesia
focus of love in my heart
lilac blue- meadow saffron
I kissed fire- drank snowdrop
lady’s earrings is lovesick
lolling against the mountain
mother-naked rocks
rojda wear mourning
shaman is the master of fire
hayyam is lover of stars
flower girl of basketmaker
clouds cry berivan
the moon beyond the cloud-aybuke
rock crannies have the right of privacy
so they distill love by deciphering the pore
your green eyes hide smiles in her dimples
if they touch separation
gives good news of birds-my heart is a birdhouse
snowy mountains await the arrival of you
tomorrow is visiting day- my heart is in your fire
our pupils will catch alight
shrapnel wound remaining from blood-red dawn
will blossom into freesias
yet I was a healing snake relining
I got burned while eluding from my flesh to fly
cause I was a nomadic wolf headed shaman with flower crown
a nomadic passing across the river flowing into its inner spring
high mualla
the one making Istanbul homeland
rose of osman of beyağıl
and beyoğlu
language of streets
high mualla
she plays the sax
in kandilli graveyard adays
nurses the mole at nights
drunken red horses start to dance
her dreams sleep under her eyelids
breasts are free, amber lips are raised
dry autumn milk, the sea crossed with shore
rotten scatty lizard, scarlet its edges
useless are proved prayers
kneading madness with wisdom
bringing a scorpion into childhood tales
besides of violin, mandolin and guitar
she plays the sax passionately
high mualla with her frozen mouth
tides among the arms of accordion
pandora’s box opens and shuts
she lives only for pandora
remaining is rejoice
everyone is astonished at her
she harbours motor ahmet
yet I made a pillow of the moon
so that calves could lick the night
then I tied stars with roses
and touched the life by sculpting my hands
where is the star – brook is captured in the sea
the autumn rose faded through ethereal loves
“shake yourself and wake to you” lie on your dreams
bear your cross, hang your past on the wall
sax and clarion are silent, play castanets
accordion is enough for you, high mualla
“yesterday I was singing
today listening to you
harum-scarum and happy is the life
how nice and well
high mualla is waiting for a kiss
terror the tuberculosis
a love has been wasted away
I have been wasted
tuberculosis
if I touch them
wires of phone
will be broken
if I not, they’ll reach you
bad news travels fast
while my chest ripping my heart out
my left lung is theater of war
roses of blood blossoms in beyoğlu
my heart is beating my chest
bird screaming in the cage- captivity action
the other precipice, your lip traces are still alive
how many falls passed after breaking up
how many times you beat those pavements
at every corner there is another trace of eye
while my dream bathing in a clear fountain
chains in my heart, your smile in my eye
I am a lost poet in my own country
what a pity- what a shame
mountains are offended- the sea is bereaved
seven hills are my tiara
kazancı ramp is my youth
“yek gülay” peak of sorrow
boiling hopes roar
epic night tales’ fever
village was attacked by bandits while I was far away
earth became without light of heart
never does love end by killing the lover
how many dark bombs burst into our souls
braves and beauty of dreamland never end
global city- heaven of love
istanbul is a fire rose- worth seeing
while turquoise eyes falling like stars
hope terrorism to spit blood
dying alive
light wind of light broke the night
your hair plaiting the moonlight was stringy
as our dreams were nesting each other
the one talking dreamy was a tiny hand
I was in torture, to death, to faith
light to the rain, the sun to gallows
my love breaking the night was hung on the sun
I came across with your sorrow on the narrow-blind roads
the angel running to the light with freedom in her pillion
butterfly sharpening her sword and rancour
night mirrors the moon, so does mirror the face, the moon to the plain
then watches her own funeral to the end
whirlwind and eddie of life drag to sky
common ground of sea and desert is sand-yellow wheel
I am alone on the way of self- at war
with you the dark side of the moon looks bright
defeat and victory are unnameable, let us stop to love
rivers run inside of me being a dense forest alone
as you cried while you were being born, poet was not free in 71-81
while you were flaking in the fire, every part of me was captive
sway beautiful
I open my chest to the winds of winter
coolness
I sleeted down the summer lands
bridal dress
I have gone beyond the peak of love
and revealed my secret
I scratched my wounds
to find the life
drunk while watching the fire
I reached to the sky
and washed with the wine
went around vineyard
as I kissed red, the rose was adorned
her mouth sang out
I reached the white mountain
having nevus on her chin
I dipped all sorts of flower
and got into honey with you
get words out of your tongue sweeter than honey
with your white curly hair like jacinth
with ruffled fringe skirt
and the axis of equator on your belt
sway beautiful
swing and swing again
do not let your honey bubble eyes
touch the barriers
there are eye traces in your eye
dreamland is narrow for us
in the lost times
a dance starts
whirling
mountains come closer
beloved come closer
hand by hand
erosion
green was dying
flower was fading
trees were crying
loves were decaying
humanity was melting
soil was sliding
mountains were undressing
hills were shrinking
rocks were enlarging
tired of a dream
you in my dream
are not cheery
light in my eye
is not enormity
me on my face
isn’t flesh
me inside of me
isn’t forbidden
deaf mute on my tongue
is not crescent
fading rose
is not september
heigh
do not shoot the dawn
the sun is blessing the love
is aurora made of golden
the blue lighthouse inside me
drying sycamore of having not love
and we are having death throes
sky of the blind is without beams
a drop of ocean
lip trace on the photograph
please button your lips
well then my child
of which dream I am tired
zeibekiko
fire scene of love-celestial
nude and silent night
milk white and mother-naked
the moon is related to the night
night to the gun barrel
that is lip red- live ember
I kissed the night for a last time
hey warrior
hush and listen
endless silence
as the scream of blind night
touch the blue
the moonlight receded
falling star inside me
green and light jade
the flash lightning inside
blow the crazy breeze
the last zephyr- the first trade wind
the last flower springing to life
inside the crevice
is dying in the pot
red-blooded leaning on the night
the rifle whose barrel bushing out
dawn is on the wind
I am into the nightwalker dreams
nestling to the mountains on the quiet
singing a ballad
kemal’s song
yellow crocus purple violet
star-like flowers
piko weaves vignette by vignette
victory feast starts with the sun
wedding bairam zeibekiko
eurasia
what lovely wind kissing my window
ten steps from pendik to peking
the thousand kilometres too near
voyager writes epopee –manas
asia -land of ancestors- rose and heart
moon faced, almond-eyed altai
wet rail, slipping time
the last lip mark of the sun
every moment passing nicely is
a stone’s throw away
culvert and the silk road
connecting you to me
sarıkamış
they came back
from fire land
the lost birds
whirling semah in the sky
in the war of ninety three
they whirled too
it was not the crane time
winter birds came back
looking at sarıkamış-kars eternally
I fell in love with a caucasian girl, azeri
speckled partridge ricochets, slips on the ice
sheik shamil and his sword came back
ararat with rosy white face perished
shaking sparkle horse and enver
smelt death, his eyes twitched
silk plains were in snow the height of a cane
mountains and brooks cried, everywhere is blood
the brave cuddling up to his horse and gun
lying without tag and shroud
wake into dreams and lullabies, come
green and be suffused with the mountain kaf
sarıkamış fell; sorrow was snowy white
cıldır went mad – quarters grey – hope fell into dream
losers wore icy shrouds, graveless
arpacay thawed, melted like the lives
fire of snow, snowdrop, full moon and sorrel
sun feels blue and pick up shells in the dark
flower that blossoms – bleeds
a hundred twenty thousand times
the flower freezing in the ember hearts
fire in quarters
crazy wind and his brave son black train
how many tunnels getting to freedom you passed
freezing fire connects foreign lands to home
I am in love with that coal-eyed ant
the snake clinging his own light while loving
lost, orphan, destitute, savage
the moment of love and sorrow, moment of fire and rebirth
escapee, storm, cry – the heart of shaman
the light of cow mehmet, his holy khan
intestine full of blood in ulukışla
we drink white kumiss with anise smell, blood
the last turbulence coming through time
orisons to ülgen dying and resurging
in a mystical smash on a journey to cosmos
asparagus- the holy fire of juniper
sick- evil spirits, bad vibes are out
shamanic journey, vineyard house of trance
ember heart anatolia, motherland of turks
ear of wheat-plenitude, shining face, ember of heart
my oath, others rifled my first love and the last bud
my destiny, broken saz, my breath and ney player
my mother who is weighed down, wizard of poems- wolf of fire
iron horse heading for dream of night
“the train comes. it comes well, lei lei sweet heart”
hey firefighter! one more shovel of coal, love in ember
it vaporized as heated, wet railways got lost
bolkar burnt, I want to get off the train in ulukışla station
eyes are siblings
greetings to other eye
heroes are in blossom
I worship words of wisdom and hazel eyes
lover that focuses on love
fuzuli, nesimi, yunus
mighty and generous fellows
rigor and suffer of the world
live in my eyes
so do dead silence
and cries of children in war
my heart is a fire scene
my tears are flood of people
as embers fall into dreams
fires of spring shoot forth
in pleasure of sibling eyes
live together lost and dead loves
yet I got lost in your eyes
and died of the bends in honey bubble eyes
your twitching eyes fired are blind
look and see flowers, bugs and love
your sharpened smoky lashes are arrows
shoot me on the petals
two cities eyes to eyes
let hazar flow into aegean sea
baku in izmir
karşıyaka in baku
cities on the wings of my wind
“two states, one nation”
their light is a ballad of friendship
coming together of graceful days
dance of fire, impulse of loves
blood kiss
I opened my eyes in an almshouse in my dream
thinking and kissing were crime
yet I kissed only the sun
loved and smelt the anatolian fire
prison- bedlam is fading- weird
my lip mark started to laugh- id est
light were flowing on my cheek
red dawn of lips vanished
the last kiss and smoked mirror
blood mark- kiss of death
I put a cross on the world with my blood and
had a trip across the universe in my dreams
eternal and unending
the sun runs around my axis
I drank up my lips’ red whirling
an ardent-silent and deep sorrow in my heart
of free dreams and laughter with pincers
I am passing by a river in a bloody bed
by kızılırmak- flooding and running its source
the river wringed my throat- I am a slave
yet I am free in my cell!
a slipping whistle on my lips
the crazy light buried into death
the snow tulip blooming in graveyard
my sap arising from dead as it was kissed
my lip mark freshened-shahmaran
my lips started up- burning on the mirror
the moon light wringed my tongue, wild-spiral
in sleep-on query-in judgement ordered and adjudged
bullets were shot by lead letters
shaking my hand is hand of light in darkness
the loon who raped the history
who was that kissing me in shelter
who did I kiss in torture
did zephyr break the glass of love
did pencil do away with the poet
when the flower of twilight bloomed, I was lonesome
with the blood leaking from history’s lips
I wrote an era whose cherry was popped
a letter to a death poet
ancient wisdom from altai to bolkar
wind at the centre of the circle- sacred ballad
black lake watched and listened- coolness
embroidered uplands were his confidants
on the edge- in the passage of poetry- had you missed, you would have come
roses fallen in the moment between my eyelids in february
smiling glazed mirror was my hidden secret-fire land
stars were broken into pieces as they burnt out- disillusion
shadow falling into darkness- bloodless and unscented
I reached victory purifying from passion-bodiless
loneliness coming with night – wringed my neck
corpse was dead alive – without love and poetry
birds of passage carried life to other dreams
we made love without a word- you were too mean to give your love
for a barefoot woman whose hair smells soil
you planted poems in your charred heart- you said you would die- for her
you lost the fire of soul swaying on the focus of your dreams- you died
yet I still write through a virtual reality- beyond reach
dance of the shaman
ice blue altai mountains
the first white summer is waiting for you
sentinel delta on my forehead is yellow
perhaps that smaragdine light is my birthmark
I am escapee in a deep inner diving
uncle kam- from which dream I fell
who is that me finding me inside my dream
where did my ancestors wake as I was sleeping
shambala, belovodia-altai ranges- top of belucha
black jades and healing herbs are the faces of love
the writing inside the circle and sacred triangle
familiar daughter of another forgotten time
a mellifluous melody with gleaming fire
starting is a soulful fire dance
I am in the fire and dance
fire and dance are inside me
awareness- internal essence, my soul and flesh
I am dancing between two worlds- tidal
a tale of love, luciferous and lively breath of witch
my dreams are made of water and fire- lost sound of mountains
endless and timeless- land of wisdom and elegance
my homeland is burning to fire- celestial light
dreamland is into icy rocks white- clement
you the mysterious belodovia- your door is unlocked
your love and power is free- I wish I passed threshold and entered
you the woman of fire hold my hands – the energy filling my body
sorrow peak of desire-amber pyramid- narrow and scarped
the moon is a bearskin- gazelle is its friend- my only fellow is silence
a lightning inside of me is flowing to a child- scented flower
near the blue lake where huge pines hold a grudge against the sun
a fawn- spring bird- witch-hunter and the crazy rifle
who is that sleeping baby in my dream, hunter or prey
crabgrass on inaccessible mountains is hair and beard of the earth
white haired hills bow to blue lake- then love dance starts
ice of the sky is being broken- drum is crying- horses with their red buckles
fire reaches to upper world- dream turns to real
me- inside the circle, out of the triangle- blue collar
I was the last gazelle being a shield onto drum’s chest
the shaman headed mad knob was beating me
with a nice pain I was shaken and awaken
expostulate on god
in the dance of moses and bower as whirling
we stoned the devil by cursing
the rod tied to a cross in the lost times
suffered in the garden of mary, jesus
as searching for a sip of mohammed
trouble of beheaded hüseyin is ali the lion of desert
cursed fruits of vintage in heaven
rib of adam is crushed, his angels are reptilian
strokes in cold waters are savage to lives
they were tang of our patience, restless in our hearts
god of storms
akdağ and yeşilırmak
my fellow is
pure and voiceless
waking up with a crow
on behalf of heroines
oh crikey
teshup, god of storms
stole water from a well
he lost his legs and arms
dragon god is ferocious
heights and rivers tremble
eurasia and amasya write epopees
for mustafa kemal, for the sun and moon
storm of era – escapee wind
the first cry of my voice –first spring
the last mountain algae I kissed
flowers bloom on my lips
in cherry and red apples time
every sacred kiss was warm
flower images flapping around
honey of bee, red crane- man of the roads
anger is black-tobacco is yellow
tears of mary
way of wine is laid with mines
roaring silky river
night turns to ice
what is the point of seasons
sun of afternoon is still harvesting
with its short life and long shadow
wind harvests the anatolian crops
water purifies its hair in mirrors
which king whose hands are washed by love
is a blindfolded enormous butterfly
claw of poetry is a fire heart
a forsaken dining table, a tale home
a hidden endemic flower of eden
darkness and cruelty are blind dwarves
our hopes are higher than mountains
we stood over a spring
and built turquoise domes
pull the golden globe down –out of season
force your tears back when they are dried
tear your poetry notebook and your fate
is it possible for phoenix to scratch his eyes out
his hair is feminine and soft like sands
neither feather nor tuff but pollens of fire
oh the stormy love – ginger yellow
bird of the crumpled love is mournful
teshup is lost-mountains and rivers of sorrow
turquoise lake borabay-elmasiye-baraklı
flag of love on the bastion of harshena –red and white
ripe ear corns and blue hayfork
gökay the wise owl-seek refuge in wine
elder man asked inside with his blue eyes
oh my son is the war over
the forefinger of god
there was not last omen through future without first
god made a sign on the anvil of love
nailed your teeth then put the devil inside you
first evil ate a piece of rosebay as if balkara
dearest of the heart in sugar spring
whose load of peace blew ash of far horizon
wind of fire embraces and pats the copper night
kisses of heaven rain, moon light is stud
demons deal with their drops of fire
sahara was empyrean; we made love on a craft
for being near to angel of milky way
and forefinger of the god
eve should be winnowed into the air – beaten in mortars
the rib of adam is a hidden kite
we worship to a drop of wild water that should be loved crazily
the god illuminating our ways makes the light blind
we are rich to be none in nonentity
wizard of love, healer hanging down in rags in sky
root ways in a dream – hope is the secret on his forefinger
we are the source of light in an eternal and timeless orbit
a drop of water
white dreams tailed to rhythm of love
time of motley grapes and sparrow with rose beak
large celestial cloud leaned on flat mountains
forties crashed forty times into the first spring of water
they are smutty, bloody eyes should be touched
do not look with an evil eye; do not make me blind, my inner eye shines
falling from this fire to my share is a piece of ember
magma of poetry is mighty into the fire
shirin on the mountain kaf is the blue on the arm of spruce
the soft knee of a wet and offended cat is burnt down
tear giving blood and life to the dead rain is witness
face of a cadaver smiling to the droughty requiems is net
a whole era is lying down at full length
hunchbacked step of stairs – beating evidence
a blind broken key, winder tongue, fez of imam
mine is the footfall of a confidant rabbit
that frightens the hunter; eye and iron sight, I am fallowed
close your hazel eyes – lie down on matrix
flip your hair remaining of your yesterday’s dream
hold your earlobes, shut your ears
open your ears and lobes wide
wintertime, my moustache and beard is icy
through a divine breath the ice of life is thawed
eddy, oblation, knot of a shawl, gipsy basket
oxeye, besni, boiling black grape wine
water of a prayer rug running down the cheek of beloved
lucid like poison waters, then I shall cry inside
men of chukurova utter blasphemies
moldy tongues of mold – satin fur of oat
as the tunnel in bolkar is running to sky of earth
the first locomotive sliding on rails quietened
naked piston shuttles on the old way
dawn is the fellow of the life, opening into pandora
sound of a pipe sings a song and brushes my hair
I have stood to the night, crisp licks my chest
passagers of south give good news on the window
I am pregnant with a poem,
craving heartily, my body is a basket of images
I long for imaginative peach, apple and cherries
my body is the light of a lightning shivering
my heart is the lost land of the god, ancient quick
sclera leaking out heartbreak is celestial water
the thing joining me to you is not delirious rivers
a drop of water flowing to the heart
nietzsche
a huge “holy yes!…”
echoed for a bunch of love
the camel loaded with its fate onto the back
buried sorrow and neurosis inside
it had an illusion and kissed the dust willingly
he melted and revived just to spite those voting no
and checked the truth through himself
then headed towards bloody facts – by dying out
his corpse recovered so well that he went down
drinking the wine of betrayal and loyalty
it slavered over his sorcerer dove- crazily
he slept in the streets and deserts
then woke up in his dream, liberty was clemency
he turned towards an unfinished love – cried
in a drop of ocean swam a few strokes to death
what is the reason of your daring and fearless nudity
your strong voice and steel heart is free
your enlarging great shadow never settles
your eyes and wings feeling my oats are my dignity
I get undressed for a thousands time on the anvil of soul
mine is an utopian era and a sacred love
shivering in the light of a thunderbolt unconsciously
pliers never open my teeth; let your lips take on their own
rose of love- dream fractures is my body, sorrow is honey bubble
kiss, touch and then create the mountain kaf with your borrowed heart
yours is a kind of ripple being aware of awareness
deadly ethereal love, birth pain, fear of being created
I must save the inner savoir, it is the only way to get rid of him
kuşadası
silky
house of soul
pearl of an oyster
bush bloomed
hey voyager dervish
send your voice to mine
then everywhere brighten with the light
carried by your voice, then sky breaks up
broken stars are just like sweet corns
let them fire and pop inside our mouths
once efes got cold with a breath
of the peace birds with winged hearts
wine of şirince boiled down to heart sore
I drank you sip-by-sip beauty of island
for ballads bled aloud I cried inside
and nestled in voice of red poems
I was scratched in a lost age many times
I wish I were seed for canaries, need of loves
my tea was brewed under the sun of fishermen
you were not here I got my share
then held on to your white shadow
the whole universe and dreamland are narrow for us
there was a full moon where hopes dashed
lip mark of a lost city
an undiscovered call invites me
I washed on the skin of sun, purified
holy rose lake, healing crops
shaman, the god with castanet of music and dance
fire is blue; altars were wrecked one by one
prosperity came and shahmaran reared up
light of the darkness in bunuba land
elixir of love, verenika I adore you
god inside me is surprised, earth and sky is at peace
you, the love of the lost city, charming soft fard
golden tooth of the full moon, girl of the white rocks and island
I drink chica and chew coco leaf from your mouth
while I trace, water seek for a new course
let us go beyond the sacred river and mountains, flower of era
men of taikus and sons of the sun, Incas
mayas fermented the lake from china to machine
efes, lip mark of a lost city, worth kissing rocks
we hallowed the love, a thousand jack men, and the hittite sun
atlantis is dawn; anatolia is homeland and brothers in semah
scent of a mother
her love was for everyone, smart on his wedding
water burning in fire was poor
mum was light for the village she was born in
her palm was closed, her skin was wrinkled
my elixir was scent of mum and her milk
the mill tumbling in the water of soul
melancholy in a lost love
the most precious is the love to mother
fear of death in runaway days
the world revolves, I feel dizzy mum
however, nothing changes, time is a sculpture made by a shaman
how many children were left orphans by the war
the voice coming from distant stars is blue exile
mum’s cry was stunted and silent
she was a drop of water in oceans
my feelings do not turn to green mum
actually my fancies deceived me
I got lost in the night, you were my eyes
my mother was buried into touching ballads
yet I am with you every moment, you do not exist
your grass green eyes falling to my dreams
your calloused hands, water in a golden cup in time of fallow
her silky touch was a pain, a longing
I extend my hand to branches; my palm is full of your hennaed hair
the eye looking down upon, her every breath is a fountain of wisdom
if they said “what a pity”, I would cry my heart out
rivers and water birds are core of my heart
roses of ısparta were hushed, carpets were hurried
ginger blinked her eyes in crannies silently
god of the scents is the healing scent of a mother
black mamba
two mothers of a child
giving birth and bringing up
that shadow woman in the mirror
hung on a clotheshorse
sculptor under the wise rain
picks fire from his heart
when the capital poet sneezed
the moon quakes, oriels are ruined
we are all hypnotized by horror
greasy rope is black mamba
poisonous green, femininity is victory
love is burnt sorrowful colour of life
your eyes are source of energy mamba
your eyes are as precious as water
lick the water; kiss the soil, snake of nile, black mamba
why do we need war – let us dance
vultures besieged to the passageway of time
elixir of death and roses of blood is beamless time
boss-eyed and enigmatic things patted our souls
latin beauty black mamba is in diurnation
matter of sleep and death
a cobra is dancing imazighen
reptile and steel eyed headwaters
face to face with the first twilight flower
yellow master of desert black mamba
akuna never knew his father
his no name mother is hidden under a stone
he sucked his creamy finger
being used to be pampered – let us drink tequila
elevated poems are banned; teenager bite love
side effects of dreams were sleep walker
breeze stirring through the breath of summer
that crossbred girl was a magnificent bomb ah
exploded – danced with its tongue black mamba
worker bee from el paso molests to the sun
sea is washed by the moonlight
when your eyes were blue I was swarthy
we worship to thousands of children and flowers
your eyes is a mirror so that stars can brush their hair
demure scent of graveyard is marijuana
akuana, the trace of the purple sun, was sick and weak
death is gravity, palm tree with amber head
gets lost like a wind rose on your shadow being an old fall
thousands of sacred blue songs and a baby cry
ophelia was the last angel- the lightest blue was turquoise
sugarcane-yellow tobacco-ron-salsa-tango-samba
are you ready for an endless journey, black mamba
the last kariz digger
life at the zero point, centre of the universe
water on the burning water, blood inside capillary
kariz is labour, track of civilization, heart of uyghur
my source is god mountain, my horizon is turfan
man of yuanmou, beijing or kokturk
name of the girl is rose, boy is soul, and I am brother dursun
tong su of yarnaz, sadır the kashgartsy wrestler
great love of eurasia, the silk road connecting me to you
rice, tea, grape, sparkle, torch, my two eyes
I searched for my roots in the oil lamp in kariz, we need peace
“sons and daughters are all one heart at the storm time”
they are bonding the new wall and the last kariz by dancing
kariz beauty arzugül sing a mulan song, lake on the moon
the blue bird dying during morning sport! do not call me, my sky is empty
neither wine of kariz nor slanting eye
taoist shaman mother is dancing for harvest, what a lovely tile
phoenix with golden wings bit the tiger in north savannah
I looked down on from altays, to the dream fire, hunter was shot
he was washed in a pot, burnt and his ashes were flown to sky
in the darkness of river I watered my blue horse, my night was calmed down
the last kariz: ancestor tracks, thousands of flowers bloom in the cem ceremony- lovers
almond eyed badegül, honey leaks from words, sorrow is bairam
eye of my heart bled, I cried inside and melted gram by gram
why we need captivity, I am free; each chain is a broken arm
a tale of love
when the golden candles lightened
“sky is love, earth is passion”
fire birds glances with their eyes of heart
wild colt runs horse head with death
even if the sun lose its speed, hours do not stop
blue winged birds are the alas of heart- luna
is the one blowing both hot and cold
peace and sorrow are quite close to us
freedom is intractable – crazy
land of poetry eternal and timeless
you shall burn in the fire of love
the pigeons are whirling again
universe is dreamland, good morrow to creatures
elegiac döne
“who cried here at dawn
there are tears on the grass…”
I am döne with my braided golden hair
you are veteran taborer coward nomad land
we were the last yuruks on bolkar plateau
I spun wool with a spindle whirling
winded hanks, suffered a lot smolderingly
do not worry my gallant, the sun returned its home
tell me your love, my heart is on your side.
fellow
lover
scar
feller
honey of love
age of gazelle
shaman dance
devoted shall smile
in the floral valley
the rain shall let up
ballads are blithe
salt is whirling semah in a cave
a full moon on the top of ılgaz
a donkey on the threshold, looking tamely
there is an evil eye trace on its eye
your friendly eyes are childlike
a floral rain drops
poetry and art are always right
eldivan village in elmacı
nazım and kemal tahir
twill floral fabric in dungeon
flower is hidden his valley
from çankırı to çankaya
a long walk is kemal love
sometimes on foot, sometime mounted
tarkana
tar
kan
tarkan
tarkana
holy mother
doing shaman dance
day lasts more than a thousand years
mother naiman’s hair is
red hot sun and forty brave men
commander of oraz, drooping willow
crescent, my moon headed angel of love
fire in the iron dust, kumiss in goat skin
snowy white- blotless, mare’s milk is our juice
our faces of altai reflect to shining lake of light
red tug of war flaps, the white headed colt
shall be a victim bending its head in front of the tomb
cry to the old wise dervish with white beard,
cry for your hopes, glide from rocks; do not go for nothing but osh
mount suleiman is the tear of aisa, make a wish, three is fine
rose falls on veil and white neck, during the cool morrow
the beauty having beauty spots on her florid cheeks wanders on her feet with anklet
her smiling spring like eyes ogle by smelling the far
what kind of loves you fell down, how many epics you penned in chains
the great manas, mankurt without beam, apple worm at the pace of a snail
the sun is on the hope tree and an apple falling from tree on its shadow is a life
sons of tarkana valley, kirghiz girls, summers with poppy corn
altai- freedom through the mane of a horse, phoenixes and geese dance
they song ballads with an only voice screaming, burning – reeds are side by side
rose and the family tree of poetry are lives,
the eye of my heart cried- I flew down gram by gram
epic kubaba
you; god woman kubaba, your breasts are black grape baskets
lord of uranos (god of the sky), the first slave of gaia
quiet voice of the lightning wings of fire, milking the blue clouds
seed of the storm god teshuba, land of kizzuwatna
a drop of blood from the crazy river, red wine flew from the truncated head
you were not at the first posterity war, which tough god created you
a snake derived from the shadow of the family tree and hung onto your throat
vagabond kumarbi of hattusash made the love bleed with cuneiform
love that is the marriage of soil in hurri land, ivriz horse
poet mates with angel, first spring is in white bed
thunderbolt falls down; bread and water burn
beauty of troja is like a nuptial night, six titans are born
delirious kubaba evolves out of her fetus and milks love
she buries her hennaed placenta, red river bleeds
she removes her rib and makes a scythe, then sharpens it in her bosom
she castrates the sky father, squeezes his testicles and takes his breath away
kronos of the second generation releases his sperms inside his sister
she is shackled by her fate, swallow them drop by drop
soul distils from the third eye, fair zeus is born
zeus, the one avoiding being swallowed; the one whose mother is a sinner
alulu drinks a mug full of poison and becomes anu’s slave
he catches her foot and pulls it down from sky and prays the mother, bites his knee
sheds seeds inside; his knee becomes a phallus, unravels from his perforated skirt
then he tells “I put an infertile seed inside of you, do not be glad to drink it
I made you pregnant slowly and released to the nature as naked as a jaybird
teshup, the god of the lost storm will be born and then rivers will turn to green
you shall regret and be defeated by the sun and the moon
radiant power is of the sky, oracle is of the head in that place where everybody revenges
messenger hermesius carries the sky of atlas on his shoulders, at every turn
in the lost house where big breasted cybele dreams with nymphs
his heart is a ginger bud, she bites the night then the night breeds in dawn
gilgamesh anoints his reed and waters in the blind hole of hurrie
dusty rose of hittite yellow hair and pathways that tied into a braid
shining sculpture of kemal, cradle of atlantis, turkmen land is narrow
there are evil eye traces in your eyes and your lacrimal lake babbles like rivers
angel of eyes odatita falling in my dreams dies, resurges and looks at the moon
sacred shaman blood kumiss or wine is drunk during the migration time
a feast starts, whirling fire dance, medal for gallants
the one falling us to the endless ways is not iliad but epic manas
the sky kissed the earth in the pupil of anatolia and gave roses
an inner marquee is dreamland, an epic outstaying many civilizations’ welcome
my heart, the capital and the shelter of matriarchal gods was the house of love
cried as she was kissed
a child in karbala
cries with her beady eyes
in the field of rainbow
ballads bleed without love
we are dervishes of lost time
on the last lip mark, burnt
the child stood breathless
searched for her toy and waited
in the place where the sun went out
when she found cluster bombs
as the soldiers arrived, she got lost
drop her bread and troubled
her eyes were wide open and bright
she was rueful but a joy in her eyes
her big, smutty and coal black eyes
focused on the remediless and lost morrows
she offers her voyager dreams and hopes
while dead yankees play soccer with truncated head
angels rebelled and were revived in the fire
baby meriem was only at one
she did not live a life; a red hankie was tied to her coffin
naphtha rained and mothers fired their hearts
loaded and fertile breasts dried up
rivers went dry so they milked clouds
oh blue clouds, from which sky you fell down
the nail of the universe was pulled out; love is from earth to sky
anatolia and vietnam is the sound of a mace and victory of a fall
while the moon was hanging in the last night, death machine
old beaten commander was sad; tied his boots
while looked at the postcard, he remembered his own child
as he was kissing the white bird and the children dying in cradles cried
guilty and loser; peace was in fronts; ran and gurgled
hector
hector! hector! hector!
ask the wine and the fire who we are
the heartsick spartan of troja, the victor
the evil of the sacred lands of fire and wine
which god can splash water in your ashes? blood juice
which orchard’s unripe grape are you? love duty
hector! hector! hector!..
ask the lights of lost time who we are!
aegean eyed angel, golden earrings and nose ring
defeated commander pepe groans in intepe
let us drink ofrenion wine on the table of homeros
white eftalia is the golden coin of life
lovesick blond daughter of mount ida, shahmaran
their scarlet horses are not only horses but brave steeds
hector! hector! hector!..
ask the sacred loves who we are!
quack mounted troops, sword-shield
are you a fish frying in ember?
forehead and embrace of çan boğaz-intepe
bare-naked trojan mother aeneas lying down
mating time for sheep – vintage season
erenköy is poetry land; drink a pot of dervish blood
I was the one steeping in the fire
I was the skin tanning in the sun of hittite and dry cold of assos
hey great hector! hector! hector!..
ask the horse headed anatolia who we are!
beyağıl
our ancestors lived when we did not exist
our grandsons will live when we are gone
life is beautiful with us, endeavour is blessed
our juices are vigorous, burbling
mountains, stars and our hearts are clamped together
hands reach to the eternal, kernels are meaty
soil is sacred; peace and love are fair
join the army of wise men, run and scatter around
the love for mustafa kemal is the mightiest
the bright face of anatolia, beyağıl
mons
trosity
that
moment
van
bleed
for lives
monster
life to life
avar to avar
sheenful fish
pickle in soda
while burning the sky of van
van gogh quailed in the art
the hennaed hand of bride-curly mountain
children suck tired breasts
the coves are like the head of a buffalo, not a monster
yellow fall colored bee- fertile clouds
trenched terraces in layers on slopes
a cooperation of stars-sacred nemrud, an urartian kariz
an old deserter with his stringy white hair and beard
hung his old boots from their throats-torn postcard
“per curiam” “it was seen” “it was posted”- let out
“imperialism is a paper tiger” bat is bloody sack
balcony pleasure is a witness and cerement hangs on a clothesline
taking his colour from a palace, persian sail is in red blood
blue-green cattish eyed beauty- a sleepwalker in her shadow
while shehriban eyed shahmaran is in a blind alley of a lake
evil monster- tramples down the spurred gilgamesh in his water bed
poet- for the love distilled from fire- writes freedom verses
ah tamara
ours is a crazy love, tamara
allusion is captured in fire, silent yell
a bark is steering off after the flood- noah
whenever we avoided of the moon, we eclipsed to the sun- ah
silk road- straw yellow- venus
“war makes people familiar”
says uncle sam on behalf of us
as dead blood flowers blossom
in a blindfold or graveyard
if there remains anyone to be familiar with
enemy of hopes, captured dreams
they are the vultures of black africa
hungry, homeless and captive children of lumumba
dark and weak fingers pull trigger
blind bullet whistles on an eye mark
love for nile and lion of desert, tuareg
life is blood in the fire of fresh dreams
the fire of a darky is the soul in sclera
the girl being offered to the guest, to be circumcised
untouchable family tree san-bushman
from far away, from different dreams
three red apples, sunny faced white ararat
the utopia I brought up with my own hands
the first warp of the mill, the last water
blond bride spins the dreams in ballad
then urartu from the familiar language of rugs
then the time embroidered with madders
the hero burning in his own fire
while the dawn breaks, the lost god nemrut
mount suphan whose peak is covered by an anxious cloud
the last breath of eternity, akdamar
ah tamara, my cat, blue eyed van
poor tamara
the mother of anatolia, tamara
coolness under the shadow of ankara sun
the space of the mind is darkened and burnt
a feast with caucasian mimics
even ebilov’s death is comradery
ah tamara- poor tamara
mobilization and enlightenment
on a motley horse back a bride with veil
country side of motley horses alaçatı
the west having only one tooth
assaulted the humanity
ah tamara- poor tamara
çakici fed the cock
with his worn-out rifle
then he swore heavily and went
below the belt, above the minaret
ah tamara-poor tamara
master plumber, wise man-mustafa
it was the last fall he made a notch in the world
loves ended-he had nothing to give
the black sea flow into the light source of blues
the earth bled- earth flower is grey black
ah tamara-poor tamara
the hand of light joining us to you
is the endemic centaurea
headachy- lovesick mountain, ararat
a couple of living things- the last call for the tuffoon
caucasian beauty- ankara never forgets you
ah tamara-poor tamara*
(*) Tamara: The wife of Ibrahim Ebilov and the mother of anatolia
ocean
I was a dream in my dream and swayed this summer
I wrote an amulet in muskat – poetized
voyager dervish is lovesick – white rose
your black brows and eyes smothered a fire
how many seasons did your olive eyes changed
tuesday quakes in a rowboat – salalah
sultan is a blue bead – mashallah
a thousand and one stars of millennium fall down
my fault dislocated – ashes of an earthquake fire the rose
ocean is a drop of tear – dagger wound
candle yellow dates smells steam – love epilepsy
“why do your natural kohled eyes need kohl”
yet those eyes worth all the almonds of the world
the bloody dawn flower of the persian – sleep baby sleep
all the rivers run to the persian gulf – aqua rosae
arabian girls hurt hearts – my life is sacrificed for fatima
camel racing in desert – children running through time
my heart shines; shahmaran hang onto my throat
the horses of poetry make the far near – well bred
poetry whose arrow and spear are bloody – hennaed eye lash
a guerrilla child of dofar – with his beaten hand by the age feels helpless
indian sea is hope – ocean is the empty cradle
dates in the garden of sultan gabus – pomegranate is my past eternity
black mountains are naked – fire – one of my eyes is sparkle, other is ember
my black beauty – let’s travel around the ocean without rod
middle east the sperm circus
rambo, of what dream’s bastard are you – lying with the war
my flesh is dead in an unwritten poem
my cerement is in a war of sharing the middle east
I have swum on a drop of dew
in the fruit dream of this wild sperm circus
on bloody arrows and guns
the burning ones are the eyeholes of a mother and a son
deepness of their eyes lighten the world
the ecstatic god losing his throne for the sake of a woman
the warrior breaking his chains every night neighing
the man drinking gushing blood of the victim before he dies
through the voices of the dead breaking the silence
temblor under the soft light of the squeaky bed
the bloody uniform of the commander greeting his victory
someone lighting up his wet cigarette with the sun
and the last of the living draining the life
would run along the eternity, savage
head pimp searching for a woman
to play with a handful of fire is
a jade living in my chest
yet I am not the same as
the one coming to the graveyard of blood roses
I was the last warrior revolting
you were coming on a horseback in scarlet dawn
tropics were following you
a line of light in your hands, holding onto the life
those are the screams of carlos of ecuador
today is the hatred remaining from yesterday
the hatred in its flame poet al-cahez died
the rainstorm on the roof of the first image
challenging to the severe storm
the blind light lapsing into its own flame
the blue inside the yellow skinned green
war is to drift off to a rusty fatal sleep
a psycho sailor coming from the dead sea
the flirtatious harbour inclined to the whoredom
it sings songs savouring
and makes love during the mating time of sheep
with the sailors coming from the sea
a plentiful life means a petrol field
her flesh like steel shine, the fire of a volcano
a bloody hand drew the victory on to the sky
someone should pay the price for the silence
some ones kill the children and loves
the crackling is a deadly vulturous depth
you the holy bitches and fatuous warriors shut up
bombs spitting blood
tyrants canonizing power
the lost address rock – head for the border
the geography of death is covered by naphtha
some ones kill all of us
some ones make the sun bleed
full moon cannot be seen in nights anymore
everywhere is screaming – the howls of vultures and jackals
loneliness and clay is the homeland of terror
your blind civilization is the epitome of vandalism
where are the heroes of that silence
where are the hope and the honour of the destitute
where are the mighty ones whose names are engraved in our minds
where are you the magnificent deceased people
the blind and speechless witness of the way
the drunken god of the Iceland
that crowd and the violin
smothered by the offing of the science
lost children and fish
that endless flood of the sharp light
and the almighty hand of eternity
all of you risk your hearts
walk down the mountains and get to sea
smiling and crying until satiated
actually you saved us
we built that house you lived in
does the woman you love
love me too
we are revived as we kiss
the harvest time
an ululation is worth a thousand missiles
in the matrix of the soil
an ill-timed seed
the volcano of a rose
the eye watching your steps
the big talk breaking the silence
we are dervishes on this road
we are the poems coming out of the cave
the poet biting and kissing the rainbow
dreams inside the mounted hurricane
tear drops into the fertile soil
the future coming into existence as it dies
pick up the remains left
it is almost time to go
make peace right now
silk necktie
nazım* was a poet having the luck of the devil
homesickness, prose and verse
the silk necktie choking the collarless shirt
is made from wool of life
big and fertile breasted goat
and soaking honey from her horn
the light whose foam is heart eyed is tragic
undress me with your eyes, then hoop and take me
pinked shirt, tired typewriter
redwings walking stick remaining from shaman
I watered turfan with endless poems
so that the water in the first kariz doesn’t spoil
silk road joins me to you
manuscript for the beady-eyed girl
adoration – doctor galena of votkinsky
the blue river stumbling four times
the womaniser heart burning like kerem
diseased poet in the womb of poetry
others is the pain of dawn, you are beyond of everything
my day in front facade of the night
her puckering lips as sucked
the one tracking the darkness with a couple of eye
the tree of life shimmering for water and love – granatum
in his graveyard without a sycamore and country
the life whose bridle is sweaty – white jade
a silk tie cracking the boll of poetry
the rose woman giving nazım four lives
happy is the seven crazy years passing with nazım
horses of poetry will come – keep open your rosy doors
before the earth and sky were covered by a quilt
(*): The first name of the poet Nazım Hikmet Ran means “poetry”
bagel
with the longing of crispy seed bagel
prime minister ecevit died in disappointment
seagulls are dancing; go to the seaside
the most atrabilious of blue is indigo sky
fresh bagel and tea appease hunger
paper and inkwell connect foreign lands to homeland
you should buy a book, a newspaper and a bagel
roust
whitish seed cracked
anatolia revolted
deeply and profoundly
the tinsel nawruz festival
the city blew like the winds of spring
cool and chilly
red-blooded men shawled
they gave a boost to the mountain
from its back
love, the heart of mountains
keep the hands of children
as much as fervently
sumerian mother and hititian son
tell the good news of civilization
in the very location
kemal pasha sent thousands of complaint
to the universe
from his grave
may holy shaman and
the sky god bless us
from enemy’s malice
we are çaglayan in tandogan
we are kubilay, one of the soldiers
of troop 57
roust reared up
the moon quaked, the star burnt
from ashes
poetry is a drop of ocean
river is sea; sea is hush
from its words
ethereal love is aftershock
heart burns through
the ember of the love
the army of wise and
enlightened scholars coming from
the crack of dawn
the dawn broke in alsancak
mothers wore their red clothes
through the sea coast
a victorious inner revival
in the battlements of çanakkale
through its roads deeper than the deep
galina
it was ten feet from pendik to beijing
by train on her purple lip mark
siberia’s pants were down, kham
forbidden dream, captive mind
milked the sun on the wet rails
eye fountains gurgled
the red moon under which wind passes
the red moon on which there are hands awoke
on the bridgehead and floodgate
the mountain on which I sat down
was a wild mare
the sky neighed; its mane was a wind
nazım was river running to sea
irina was volga; tatiana was baikal
galine had ice blue looks
you were that scream inside of me
my heart turned to a mountain
I fell in love with a poem
crying as she was kissed
21 september, 06
botsink
requiem of a shepherd
çatalkaya is under suspicion
his equipage and pipe is at hand
shepherd ahmet is breathless
is march or september lucky
or twelve is accursed
dusky sergeant with his boots in ambush,
causing villagers to leave
universe is ensanguined
they shot dreams too
oh my brave ahmet
your blood is shining under the lights
a mama’s boy left orphan
sheep and lambs bleat
mourning echoes
mountains recur
blood roses bush out
not from his shroud
but from his coffin
bends of fall
sycamore was overthrown
clouds cry steadily
mother heart
the red of a fire
rose in the grave
bloody ears
mating time for sheep
no dead cries
white dream
in the last autumn in which the howling shaman voiced wind veiled herself
as the old trees taking their seasonal clothes off
children carried clothes to the naked mountains in bairam
snowy white dreams being cradle of poetry wander around prose
ballads- fairy of dreams, the love scented crocus
fair snowdrop with blue crown what can I do without you
how many lives wore out in those cob houses- who knows
the corner stone keeping hopes and construction up
variegated clothes in peristyle and pigeon seeds
I am the subject of ice cream, wild orchid
palatal delight- autumn shadow dispersed into the valleys
smiling glee- blue eyes, moirés of a lake
mountains were fire scene- the fire of shaman was burning
I warmed up with a firefly and was burnt out
I believed that your hair was a peacock
do not keep the seasons in the cages – freedom for dreams
we sing on the lips of death- red and white
roaring sea – rebellion of a spring, mustafa kemal
internal angle
blacksmith influencing water and fire
stoker walking the bellows and train
saddler processing callus and straw
belt maker weaving silk and copper
in which dream you wearied with which smiling
man is an inner journey of a tired sculpture
gibbet is a triangle in the circle
two internal angles relapse and form an external one
burning nights in a star eddy
you are the bends of an eye being dazzled, going blind
the miserable price for seeing the bride’s face, a pigeon
for the light wind, blue cloud and the white seed
for the pearly forelock and kohled eyes
my soul greens pollens even after a thousand years
you are the land of birds whistling with enthusiasm
let me show you round, see the endeavour land
you looking but not seeing let your soul take a breath in interval of angles
punica flower blossoms a dawn, a penman is arrested
scowling black frost kisses poetry; the moon is an agitator
I am in torture; my teeth are dead nettle- moss
undress and come
ferment of love and peace, an olive branch
madder of life, honey of a date
three sinner offers: tree of love
enduring juniper holds onto bedrock
white poplar leaf by leaf
I become a book and am read
drooping willow carries grapes
kirkit sings and weaves a carpet
it becomes wine and fills the glasses
a great poet –his centenary sycamore trunk is free-
is sanctified under his inner shadow
he wears reds and whites
then leans on a cypress in the graveyard
the first kiss of the summer, inner worm of an apple
snow butterfly kissed snowdrops
whose roots are deep, flowers are young
sanctified ancestors’ land, central asia
the whitest tree of asia: acacia
in the light of lost times
an eye trace in my eye
my tongue is sharper than a sword
my neck is thinner than a hair
when I arrived at the straight bridge
my throat boils down to suffer
four big tacks: cross
oh the cross, my fate
come to me by ambling
nobody knows its real colour
crimson sun, green hadji
sacred vermillion of mercy
the fire kissing water
punica granatum
side by side, fire by fire- the love crown
undress and come, let us dance
always hide me inside of you
the most naked of trees
beloved tree
tear bottle
I am away from a window to love, living in exile
a burnt red carnation has shot forth
as you sleep on a petal, I am a sleepwalker
my place is blind window, tearful wall and a bier
I love and perceive my utopia
the beaten cock of the fight, rosy comb
the chest girded by roses, steep slope
the rattlesnake whose body finds strangers odd
the life rooting in the womb of agony
touchy and faraway love bird singing inside of me
anger is paralysed in my pupils and his star falls
his white bird in the skyish light of the black house, water voice
he sleeps for yesterday and goes to a silent day; voice becomes timid
artless wind takes me to you, shivering
then we lie on the last leaf of autumn
mirabilis jalapa has panic attacks, night tells fortune
pregnant branch shoots forth with every kiss
tree puts the moves on his shadow, peccant
do not drink blood from a terracotta pot. kiss and cry
starling flock is at the edge of mountain and clouds
at the edge of hope for life
a scarlet rose has shot forth
four walls is over troubled, red of golden
procession of poems, my mind is captive in a cage
a trap through golden bars
love was a kind of insaneness and enslavement
my love elixir is in a tear bottle
inner love is to believe crazily
every night a bird settled on my syllable
so that dead poets could feel that love
fire walks
accumulation is a mill
my heart is broken, shipwrecked
the juniper fading without love
the mind agonizing without passion
the sky of the blind is beamless
only a drop of ocean
is the lip mark on the mirror
heated night is restless
victory forgetting the win
the sun burning on my forehead
let us make love as much as we want
let us wash on an altar
away from the moon and eyes
let us have a bath with living stars
let us kiss as remains of an ash tree
we are tired of fire walks
banned water whispering, hiss
our only lack is freedom
noble jasmine is blossoming
lotus is asleep, hush
soul to soul
-dedicated to can yücel-
hit the booze father – cheers
full jug, empty bowls
papatolia, anatolia
bowls of wine, abundant
graveyard is the house of souls
side by side, at the edge
ali can and canan
hollow hatça of datça
are sleeping soul to soul
the most coolheaded power
rebellious to system
ancient marble sculpture
ways on postcards
put a knurl. do not live
harass the fear
jack off on wet rails
blood on their checkbook
souls melt into labour
lolling out, beggar
finds fault with everyone
his tea boils but
his teapot is handleless
his mind was matured; his speech was raw
he had a heart of gold; her face was bright
öküzgözü, küp, derdalan*
villa doluca, doru tay*
whenever wine prices increase
he swore like a trooper to shah
how about me? drunken nights
ace of hearts of poetry
su’s father
wee countess
her destiny, her husband
traces, dream and night
hayyam and the god
father can is an enigma
immortal and alone
indigo mountains
time is a hollow, tramp
iron and eyesight
load and shoot, fire!
holy shit, the private got shot
white rocks cry blood
and wear military greens
smart black crows
and white birds of poetic legion
tree of atatürk, nolina
brides cover themselves with peace
white poplar with white cerement
dawn lie down
madımak is a fire scene, ah
a stylo falling into dreams
ordered and adjudged – it was broken
it was covered with red cloud- whirled
a white bearded shaman blew
finally, he took offense at azrael
and hung his fate on a juniper without rope
so that abysmal billed poets would tie their ropes
for approaching spirit
a turk is worth to a world
so a thousand and one turkish liras worth a dollar
cullender – a handful of ski(nny ass)
to the moon – feet stand up
white pigeons applaud
wings bleed in the heights
goshawk- blower’s lungs
blindfolded, beamless
beloved is the splinter of soul
anvil and spark, the hunter was shot
* Turkish wine brands
yesterday was pregnant for tomorrow
violet eyed anatolia
where is the humanity
children suck the sun
of rosy breasts
saturday mothers1
are pregnant for new losses
beamless night where is the moon
where are the stars
fields, factories, rotaries
our fate the eye light of which is faded away
is in blood
elbow grease like rivers
lost hope in the last fall
little joys like the man in the moon
labour is captive
where is happiness and light
the moon wrinkled and cried
stars died away
bread, an autumn fire
mature ear, emmer
a mountain swallowed the sun
a purple night swallowed the mountain
where is the scent of a woman
where is the scarlet of love
ballads were burnt
during nawruz time “ah madımak”2
a blood lake in the rose month
flood of fire, blue fervent
cursing the war, praising the peace
take and throw the gun my child
by arm is pillow, my hair is quilt
a worth kissing ear for love
the father poet touched the life again
in the drought season
yesterday was pregnant for tomorrow
the flower of dawn revolted again
freedom is the cry of a baby
a vigorous main circle
turquoise happiness
flag with the star and crescent flapping
1. Saturday Mothers of Turkey are the women who are the mothers of thousands disappeared detainees between May 1995 and 1999. In August 2012, they gathered on Galatasaray square for the 355th times. 2. The Sivas Massacre (Turkish: Sivas Katliamı, Madımak Katliamı) refers to the events of July 2, 1993 which resulted in the deaths of 37 people, mostly Alevi intellectuals, and two hotel employees. Two people from the mob also died. The victims, who had gathered for a cultural festival in Sivas, Turkey, were killed when a mob of radical Islamists set fire to the hotel where the group had assembled.
rosy widow istanbul
my eyes are gazed upon your sky
my first looks are graved there
it is I looking out of your eyes
there are evil eye traces in your eyes, ancient
my flesh bleeds on old sculptures
I was burnt and cried inside, montuesday
maiden’s tower is a tear bottle, a cypress
her rosy moon is red and white bridal dress is her cerement
above me, below golden jewel, rosy widow
to the death – are you in love with yourself istanbul?
silver water running inside of you; cypress drilling the sky
the miserable blue swan flowing into eternity
is a graceful istanbul girl, magical tulip age
low heels dances on high pavements
her toy is a pinecone, peg top and marbles
as her booty shakes, my head whirls, so does the earth
you tania in island-moda and villages and in beyoğlu
the king and sultans slept in a dream, they begged on their knees
oh fellows the city through which a river runs was besieged from the inside
azans and bells are calls for the mystical love and inner invasion
my eurasian angel, my rosy widow asks the world to dance
long live Istanbul, the beauty of the world, remaining from magnificent ages
bleeding poem
I am the one born at the edge of war. dawn bleeds
I have no ancestor, even a name, furious river
even if I have, it was lent to me to be taken back
how many wars passed over this love
the golden circle of peace lights and reminds of the doomsday
“alas meriem, meriemti, where is my meriem”
red clouds in a celestial fire, shahmaran, küheylan
brother hüseyin whose head is in damascus, body is in kerbela
“ah martyr hüseyni, hüseyni is me, me is hüseyni”
my heart remained in bilesuvar, nomad reyhan
wagon houses in imişli, azerbaijan is fire scene
hey nagorno-karabakh! my children remained in the theater of war
we settled in a black train and a bloody death mountain
that iron stack is hot in summer and cold in summer
is it possible to live without water, bread, clothes and money
my eyes flew into the teardrops of my mother
still the eye of my heart sees distances and lights, tomorrow died.
oppressed seasons hid somewhere, evanished into thin air
miserable rose suffers, the sun burns
goldfinch does not sing anymore, enduring nightingale is an orphan
we are the bud of the same spring, about to blossom
beauties of first spring are hennaed, having spots on their faces
the world is both heaven and hell, familiar
therefore, those ballads would not keep silent
so that poetry would not bleed
your heart set up a marquee on my chest
your eye lashes are poems, read to me
this love is a shoreless ocean
cemetery of the nameless
every friday night police search is done
“good night thursday” checkmate
“a dream in a ruined house” curfew
boat schedules last changed at the time of evren
I am the rapture of fall in a grief barracks
I am in torture – but I do not feel sorrowful for that
I am vexed with the informer fellow – dagger
they fusilladed with a pen
I quailed or died – I do not think so
the sorrow spoiling the captive poem – the lost love
my eyes are on guard – a bloody hole – peep
they wonder in dawn even before crows
my eye pupils are down the slope – the drum of a shaman
I get surprised – old and wise colours are surprised, too
“look at stones of ankara”; be my auspicious one
is twelve doomed or september
hunter – wrinkled universe – his boots are in red blood
a postal comes once a decade – bleeding
his snug shadow murmurs – “halt, don’t move”
a poem written with bullet and small shot is guilt “it is nonsense”
each image is found undesirable “wanted”
arrogant courtesan of dreams is banned “he was shot”
trembling curtains are closed “game is over”
secret keeper candles burnt out in kandilli
autumn birds were appalled – the night calmed down
the moon remained hung upon the branches “shake”
you are the only one in cemetery
and high mualla
“how nice is that life, reckless
high mualla is waiting for a kiss
love for the nile
time of full moon, lost night – offended
the sun woke up in a scarlet dawn, a star fell
the earth is my love – so is the sky, pole of the love
the power of the tradition determining the future
burnt, poor, miserable and happy
and the master of black africa
the land of loves and the black
writing poems for the sky and desert,
the nile is the essence of life
the sky is thorn of a rose, bleeding
the tear bottle of africa
the nile runs to his source and hope
they whirl side by side, burning
dervish, shahmaran, twister and circle
the love for the sudan is an inner wave coming from deep
pyramids, traps in desert, are houses of the god – desert hot
angels absorbing the sun will pick up the gold
I leaned on the stars and the moon in the depth of the red sea
who was the victim, who was the hunter? I fell in love in ambush
I got the diamond from the hand of cobra; I was hunted
jabal marah is in love with me; so am I with the nile but
I stopped for a rest in hartum and wrapped myself in white
I drank purple karkade and steeped doing greased wrestling
I was the one sucking the sun from the rosy breast of the nile
omdurman bazaar, the place of love, dance of colours
keep on the life with reksha; greetings to water and desert
another scar on my every single cheek, the evidence of enemy
girls of baria, dinca, silluk, cunup and surma
they are aware of difference. how nice is to live together
me and the nile running, putting his arms around africa
the first line of the epopee, the last mystical favourite of the life
the yellow of date chew snuff in desert, without a camel, on foot
the read headed beauty of the red sea, meriem – to haway
black crows of istanbul in port sudan –sumeyya
the haze of the sandir tree seducing usurey – isi
on the one hand habe passage, on the other hand children of sinka
since hartumian hostess kissed the poem in a plane
milky way has been a lip mark; tahani osman is an angel of love
he murmurs a healing song at that moment, heartfelt
“my sweetheart/ my life/ my heart is with you
with the taste of our love/ my life is devoted to you
it is devoted to your love/ touch me, my fire”
I touched the history and life on the island of suakın
ottoman traces in the alluring eyes of tabow
the hennaed beauty writes poems for her hennaed hair
the hennaed bride to be circumcised, al fatah in midafternoon
after the dance and dhikr, it is time to satisfy
the inner prayer with incense and drums, the dance of ardah
we are on a long and narrow way. the nile, our poem and me
the blue eye of the water cry; a life without water is our termination
our hearts hurt in the natural life village in dinnar
savage and hospitable godya is at home and those coffee girls
surmas with their wrinkled faces, calloused hands and golden bracelets
hare lipped and rather tall beautiful girls are hungry
children of cuba blow their gums for peace, just to defy wars
yankee- white missioner- fanaticism of the crusaders; poverty and death
they distribute bibles instead of bread and water to the poor and hungry children
ah dear children, our children whose destiny is black
their swarthy and skinny hands; armed fawning without book
they do not recognize if they really lived in darfur, they die without being sanctified
they sleep under the shadow of the sun, in the bosom of tsetse flies
hey voyager poet! can you take the photo of the poem of happiness
so that the hungry children would not be killed and roar with laughter
a naked and legal revival from the five thousand years of sleep
while the huge an d black africa awaken, white and blue fall in love with the nile
a freedom song echoes from the land of tam-tams
a wonder of civilization – the ancestor of humankind, black land the sudan
a weak reason for the hope, the master of the yellow desert – dark skinned turks
“atatürk of sudan is ahmed al bazhir” creating that ideal and
the bow and arrow of al feyturi, tacüssir hassan and muhittin faris is poetry
their javelin focuses on love – rears up – the great sudan is cleaned
sabah al hayr! sabah al nur! shukran! it is the love for the nile being experienced
meryemti
meriem, my meriem turned to steam and blew away
whatever moving like a head, a body and a leg
naphtha rained in nephte and being a human was a quilt
olive eyed children at only one, dying without living,
will be come back to life again
the black snake coiled up the baby clothes
a fainted owl howls in the empty cradle
hawks, vultures and uncle sam flocked
our next-door neighbour wrestles with the death, on the verge
the shadow of the smart bomb changed his way
new pharaohs live on blood from a red cup
the unbalanced world is at the blind point of the horizon
roses of blood blossom in karbala and my heart was petrified
hell is frozen; heaven is thawed
a stark naked blood rain fell onto the desert hot and rocks
I am hunting for my mind so that I can sacrifice it to the truncated head
I loved you; I felt you through your eyes
coal eyed meriem do not leave me
hey tired and offended gods! come down to the human level
stop the death! stop dollar and yen
dirty dollar greening in screams and cries
that anger and revival suffocate you too
be parched in the embers of a baby
your full son milks blood in your own self
the republic of men
ayon oros – the garden of mary
vaccination for death, elixir is in tear bottle
my meriem, do not cry my daughter! do not cry
do not wear blacks! do not wound my heart
your mum wants love not a bomb and a broom
let us stand in love; you know angels do not cry
should there be heavenly justice and holy men
under the dead turning to soil, above the sky
an aching scream echoes from the graveyard
“meriem! meriemti! where is my meriem…”
*This poem was dedicated to one-year-old Meriem pulled into pieces by American bombs in her mother’s embrace and dying in April 6, 2003.
tablets of lilith
tablet one
in a eternal and timeless dreamland
it is I being the first creator of the universe, the great god
it is you, the first creature expelled from the paradise
the first love scraped onto a tablet and the first sin, lilith
the first garden was watered and she seduced him
she made adam en enemy of me
she was not an angel but a fire
adam burnt down and was steeped
his left rib became damp
ecstatic eve got nothing
there was lilith before eve
she was a passionate voice, my harbour and beloved
his scarlet golden hair was a sea
her thin ankles with bangle were waves
her eyes perceiving faraway had ice blue lines
she was the first female to lead astray adam
I was longing for lilith; adam was searching for meat
the love for memed- jesus-moses and david is bosh
the reason of all the wars is a female – jealousy
ambergris scented water for good luck
orientalist and clear odour
you are the first pureness of my soul
do not lose your first spring scent lilith
get married to a turkish man and deserve the garden of eden
the great kök turk warrior urungu is witness
siren was a half-bird, half-virgin and half woman
siren voices on the siren rocks, daughters of zeus
lyrics of the first song seducing sailors
the eyes of nymphs, the first source of fire
tablet two
I presented the heaven so that you would be happy
it is I, lilith – I will have no rest if adam is alive
adam sleeping around wants to have the first power
he wants to become double in adobe houses on the first farm
adam moves on lilith’s body like a stoneroller
she gets angry and writes a letter
the first spouse made of soil –the first look
lilith is the forgiver and fruitful sky
she is the sown soil yielding
hence, beneath him is she to lie
formerly did she leave me before leaving adam
she is among those expelled
she is the first prostitute and sinner
she belongs to genes and devils and
sleeps and makes love with them
she had dozens of children – blemished
tablet three
adam does not put up with being a widower
and asks me for a wish – the first sorrow
he wants me to call lilith to pavilion again
then I assigned three angels
should she not come back to me, I shall…!
hundreds of children died; she did not care
she did not love adam; nor did she cheat
as she nursed a grudge, she could not endure the pain
she bit and poisoned pregnant women and babies
it did not be enough
then lilith embraced the holy tree of love
she left the door ajar – the first key
go to the evil side – go to heaven
the first bloody sheet – loincloth – ululation
music and singing in paradise
the life is red lipstick – crisp with sesame seeds
tablet four
yet I did create the woman from man – alive
lilith sowing the wind and reaping a whirlwind
the most lustful of the loves, passionate fairy
the fieriest of the temple whores
shahmaran eyed sacred angel
before the puerperal fever
she bewitched the men and the god
dream of the children with charms and amulets
the scarlet female with rosy breasts and long hair
the first person desired, the first shaken moon of the night
be lost in the uncontrolled river not to be restrained
the pain of love and peace is devoted to the last feministic victory
go and eat the forbidden and unripe fruit of your first passive sexuality
lilith is the first female to fight against patriarchal adam and blemished eve
tablet five
a ladybug in the confident night
fire haired – golden sumer anatolia
the devoted sacred land – vagina
bloody dream- david- john the baptist
fight for water or naphtha – my last wish
lilith ost – global farting masters
made of sand and foam, spoiled
muddy and breathless giant with a sack
his umbilicus and volcanic vent is a brothel
mortal and endless pleasure – broken key
lilith was the first snake to corrupt eve
stairs to the sky – shiftless
mystical rainbow, dew of the variegated dawn
my flame- my essence- my pomegranate- my honey bee
intimidate the lightning and thunderbolt then go
the tree of love and wisdom, indigo sky,
the shadow and gleam of poetry, lilith
yellow amber scented spike
the angel going insane and committing a crime
red soil of the wedding night
scent of raw thyme and partridge
the deep blindness through which I idolize you
forgotten love of the lost time
the rock holding onto the roots of a juniper
connected to the life with a rope of love
kid of the celestial fancy goat
horse and spike are parallel and head down
my bride lilith with her skyish dress
where is our address rock
where is stone pillow
go to the poet to be together
come now and say yes
my dear lilith
the last tablet
tv channel (sewer)
pollutes my utopia
I was besieged
the black hole – ignorance peculiar to heaven
jade, rebellion of the scarlet horses of fire
bleeds in a chasm – my beloved dresses my wounds
the passionate love hitting me to ways
I am the ghazi kemal, the first – you are the doctor, lilith
my wound formed a crust – before strangers came to the village
I have to ride on a horse of poetry with wild mane and go to fronts
table of contents
DURSUN ÖZDEN
Poet and Travel Writer
Poet, travel writer and journalist Dursun Özden was born in Niğde in 1950. After graduated from NiğdeHigh School he studied management and cartography. Then he finished the Press and Public Relations Department of Anatolian University. He obtained diplomas from “The Academy of Kırcali Balkan Folklore Institute” in Bulgaria and “Grigore Kiazim Popular Music Research Institute” in BucarestUniversity. His first poem appeared in 1970. His poems and essays were translated and published in English, Spanish, Arabic, Macedonian and Russian. He started his journalist career in 1976 on the Politic Newspaper of Kocaeli as a correspondent. Furthermore he worked in ISTA-Istanbul Haber Ajansı (Istanbul News Agency), Politika, Cumhuriyet, Milliyet, AA-Anadolu Ajansı (Anatolian Agency) and DHA-Doğan Haber Ajansı (Doğan News Agency). He visited more than 70 countries and every city in Anatolia. He made researches on missed ethnic cultures, beliefs and folklores of Africa. Dursun Özden has also made researches on exchange of population and wanderers of Anatolia. He published many books on travel articles. He is continuing to write articles for Azer News, Assa-Irada, Daily News Travel, Bizim Gazete (Our Newspaper), Bilim-Ütopya (Science-Utopia), Türk Dili Dergisi (The review of Turkish Language) and Cumhuriyet Gezi (The supplement travel journal of Cumhuriyet) Dursun Özden is the founder and supervisor of The Union of Science and Literature work owners (BESAM), member of The Travel Writers Association, The International Federation of Writers and Journalists of Tourism (FIJET), The World Federation of Writers (PEN), Turkish Press Council, Turkish Journalist Association, The Turkish-Arabic Science, The Union of Documentary Filmmakers, Culture and Artistic Association, The Association of Man of Letters and Turkish Writers Syndicate. -Dursun Özden is the attorney in Turkey of ASSAI-IRADA (Daily News Agansia), AZER NEWS (English Newspaper), DAILY NEWS TRAVEL (Italian) Representative of Turkey. Özden’s works on literature, culture, art, tourism, language, critics and folklore are permanently printed in newspapers, reviews and broadcasted on the radio or televisions. Published Works: – RAINBOW FIELD (poetry) – INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACY (research) – NEW TIME DERVISH (poetry) – THE EXTREME OF LOVE (poetry) – AFTER READING (articles) – THE BLEEDING SONG (poetry) – DON’T LET THE SONGS BLEED (In Macedonian 3 books – poetry) – CUBA IS NOT SO FAR (memory, travel) – LIPPRINT (poetry) – CONTEMPORARY STORY SELECTION (anthology) – THE LIGHT OF LOST TIME (poetry) – THE KEY OF MY HEART (essay) – THE PARADISE WITHOUT LIES, CUBA (travel guide) – A JOURNEY TO UYGHUR KARIZES (research-travel) – NAZIM OF GALINA (travel-dialogue-research) – SCARLET HORSES OF FIRE (poetry) – INVOLVED ARTICLES (articles, critics) – UYGHUR KAREZES (documentary film) (2009) – TURPAN KAREZES WE HAVEN PROFITS (documentary research, interviews) (2010) – ANATOLIA KAREZES (documentary film) (2010) – ANATOLIAN WATER CIVILIZATION (documentary film) (2011) –HOLY WATER ZAMZAM (documentary film) (2012) Prizes: 1970- World Peace of Day Poetry Prize 1977- Dimitry Blaguev Story Prize 1989- STFA, Technical Staff Prize 1996- Guayasamin Association of Cuba, Latine American Literature Prize 1999- Middle East Writers Association, Al Cahez Poetry Prize 2000- Adverse Art Review of Adana, 8. National Poetry Prize 2000- A. Biographical Institute (ABI), Prize of Cultural Research 2001- Journalists Association of Turkey (TGC), Local Press Prize 2003- The Arabian News Agency Association, Red Poems Poetry Prize 2003- Tunisian Ministry of Culture, Golden Palm Prize 2004- Azerbaijan Writers Association, Sword & Pen Prize 2005- Syrian Ministry of Culture and Tourism, Silk Road Prize 2005- China-Uyghur Autonomous Region of the People’s Republic of China, Karez Well Research Prize 2005- Russia-VotkinskyMunicipality, Tchaikovsky Citizenry Prize 2006- Mersin/Yenice Municipality, World’s Peace Day Prize 2006- AzerbaijanScienceAcademy, Turkish of World Research Prize 2007- Malaysian Ministry of Culture, Pacific Colors Prize 2009- Chinese Writers Association, Friendship Through Letters Prize. 2012- UNESCO / IHP
Contact Address: PO Box: 10(34431) Beyoğlu /ISTANBUL