WINTER IS OVER 'I've studied the art of farewell,' specialized in exile. I've learnt how a boat puts out from port. Learnt the bitterness of a train whistle. For years I lived on letters, lived on smuggled tobacco, banned publications. I've not forgotten a thing. Nothing. Ever. In the icy loneliness of the steppes the sails at sea were what I missed the most. There were no mountains, no moun ...
WINTER IS OVER 'I've studied the art of farewell,'
specialized in exile.
I've learnt how a boat puts out from port.
Learnt the bitterness of a train whistle.
For years I lived on letters, lived
on smuggled tobacco, banned
publications. I've not forgotten a thing.
Nothing. Ever.
In the icy loneliness of the steppes
the sails at sea were what I missed the most.
There were no mountains, no mountains:
I leant back on the winds.
Was I out of my mind? A prisoner, say,
in the heart of darkness?
The blood dried -
and I was a rose, blown into flower.
________________________________________
Translated by Michael HULSEKIŞ BİTTİ 'Vedalaşmaların ilmini yaptım ben,'
Sürgünlerin uzmanlığını.
Bir vapur nasıl kalkar bir limandan.
Tren nasıl acı acı öter, öğrendim.
Yıllarca mektuplarla yaşadım.
Kaçak tütün, yasak yayın
Larla beslendim.
Unutmadım. Unutmadım.
En çok yelkenleri özledim
Bozkırın buzlu yalnızlığında.
Dağlar yoktu, dağlar yoktu,
Rüzgârlara yaslandım.
Çılgın mıydım, tutsak mıydım
Yüreğinde karanlığın?
Kan kurudu -
Ben gül oldum açıldım.
Cevat ÇapanDESERTWhenever
I sit at a table
to write something to you
I think of the tightrope performers
of my childhood and
all of a sudden
the pen in my hand
gets longer and longer
like that balance-stick
and I soon
unlike that masterful tightrope performer
more like an inexperienced clown
fall down into the void
and start jumping
in the bouncing net of dreams.
Then
with the laughter
of my invisible spectators
echoing in my ears
I try to crawl
in a dry sea of tears.
Translator[s]: Suat Karantay, Zeynep BağcıÇÖL Ne zaman
bir masa başına otursam
sana birşeyler yazmak için
çocukluğumda seyrettiğim
cambazlar geliyor aklıma
elimdeki kalem
birden
o sırık terazi gibi uzuyor
ve ben
çok geçmeden
o usta cambazdan uzak
acemi bir palyonço gibi
boşluğa yuvarlanıyorum
düşlerin yaylanan ağında.
Sonra,
görünmeyen seyircilerimin
kahkahaları çınlarken
kulaklarımda,
kulaç atmaya çalışıyorum
kurumuş bir gözyaşı denizinde
BIOGRAPHY:
Cevat Capan [b. 1933] studied English literature at Cambridge. He is a full professor of English language and literature and a highly acclaimed translator of English, American and Greek poetry into Turkish. His major poetry collections include Don Guvercin Don [Return of the Dove—winner of the 1986 Behcet Necatigil Poetry Award], Dogal Tarih [Natural History / 1989] and Sevda Yaratan [Creator of Love / 1994]. Capan has compiled several poetry anthologies and is the author of numerous articles on drama.
cevatcapan@hotmail.com
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