THIRTY-THREE YEARS
For thirty-three years my watch worked; I had stopped
Busy flying a kite, unaware of the sky.
Translator: Murat Nemet-Nejat
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HIS ART
A no is a yes
Through its narrow door
Nothing passes
A no is a no
The mind can’t grab it!
Its abundance
A no is a no
The perfect orbit
Of an arrow
A yes is a yes
Reaching Him…
Is all there is
Translator: Murat Nemet-Nejat)
THIS RAIN
This rain… This rain… Finer than hair,
Softer than kisses is this rain…
This rain… if should stop some day
The mirrors will not know me again.
This rain is a thread that stifles my blood,
A knife in my blood that gives me pain.
While the stones on the ground, the bones in me
Endure, it will rain… and rain…
This rain… This rain… Beyond lunacy, dark
And not to be put to flight.
The djinns hold a wedding in my brain,
Of rain, and voices, and night.
Translator: Nermin Menemencioğlu)
EYES
Lingering from the past
Nothing remains but eyes
All our being dies
Why then do they last?
Star-like in the skies
Flickering in space
In a dry death’s head
Open staring eyes.
Translator: Bernard Lewis)
RAILWAY STATION
Here a man finds
The tedium of empty days,
Suddenly a bell rings
Sharper than the knell of death
Then a whistle blast
That says with broken shrillness,
‘Today they are known and go
Tomorrow they will come back as strangers.’
Translator: Bernard Lewis)