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Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 16 august 2014
What Species of Humanity Are You?
What species of humanity are you?
Whatever kind you are, you don't worry us.
According to hearsay
you were willing to lay your hands
on small items
deposited by my mother
to the communal account,
close to a bank.
I know that since its existence
Istanbul has changed others.
Some who have gone there wearing worn down shoes
have returned in high heels.
You continue to brush its streets with your skirt.
Mirrors do not show what really happens.
Ah, yes, you forget so quickly
the dusty streets of the sub-prefecture
of your childhood.
This ruse is your currency of the moment.
I know you.
You have swindled your brothers and sisters
with many recoveries.
My daughter, is there nobody to take you by the hair
and demand that you seek out America or Europe?
You have invented a lie to fill your pockets with money.
What species of humanity are you?
Whatever kind you are, you don't worry us.
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Paris, le 09.10.2004
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick - 25.10.2004
(Note: Soul to Soul presents this fine poem and others
in the spirit of communicating freely to increase understanding,
not to cater to any agenda or offend any nationality.)
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 1 july 2012
Go Now...Come Back Later
Do not stay in front of my troubles
And rattle my private feelings
Hereafter, do not touch my ideas
Do not revive my memories
Leave me to myself
Go now...
Come back later!
Me, I depend on my loneliness...
I do not let other people trample
My love so easily
Leave me to myself
Go now...
Come back later!
Me, I am accustomed to the sky's irony
It is of no importance
That I am discovered in my sleep...
I climb my trees myself
I water my flowers myself
Leave me to myself
Go now...
Come back later!
Do not stay in front of my troubles
And rattle my private feelings
Hereafter, do not touch my ideas
Do not revive my memories
Leave me to myself
Go now...
Come back later!
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Ankara, 06.06.1979
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick, 22.02.2006
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 1 july 2012
THE WORLD IN A BOTTLE *
Some offal in a bottle
Eyes are as transparent
As glass
They wander off down
Like spiders
To the bottom of it
Until mired in hatred right up to your knees
Its no door
More like a cover covering love up
His path all coiled up didn't seem to lead
anywhere really
All on his own
He managed to scare
Roses as they were growing
In old Lowertown
Noisy trucks
Men armed with pistols
Looking so bourgeois
Fear's an obsession
In the eyes of a famished bird
Love is some torture
On Earth
Time is like
fear melting at the table;
Justice is all bleary-eyed
Equality's an artificial rose
In the hands of a wretched soul
Fraternity's some empty dream
To anyone who's poor
The legend of obscurity
Your hands are bloody now, from digging in
The fire's seismic activity
And tears are what matter's most of all
In matters of justice
Some offal in a bottle
Eyes are as transparent
As glass
They wander off down
Like spiders
To the bottom of it.
* Literally: jar
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Mantes la Ville, 15.05.2001
Translated into English free verse
by Richard Vallance, © 2003, June
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 1 july 2012
THE CITY WHICH IS INSIDE YOU
You live in your own inner city, which you bought in a
silent auction.
You were again unable to cancel your debts.
Under your blackening eyelids you try to feel certain
things.
Without noticing your withdrawal from self, you leave for
distant parts
by using your ropes of thought like a ski-lift.
Your shudders increase as you touch the numberless elements.
In your screams at the moment when you feel the jolts
from the echoes
of your words crossing the threshold of your thought,
you send birds fleeing before you. As you breathe, your
roses wither.
In your moments of madness, crystals fall from your roof.
As your field of thought shrinks, your city expands. You
exhaust yourself
from running down the streets and avenues.
As the lamps of your voltage machines alight upon your
nights,
your humans robotize themselves.
The toads in your dirty waters frighten even the crocodiles.
Your inner journey makes you grow older.
Your internal cries amplify themselves.
You manifest difficulties with forty paws.
The auxiliary cells of your laboratories do not give you
the opportunity to live any pleasurable moments.
While the fear indicator inside you slackens you through
and through, you
have not
even the possibility of speaking. With each movement of
the clock,
the seasons rip themselves out of your heart.
Your solitude traverses your spirit without cease.
by Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Mantes la Ville, 22.09.2002
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by F.J. Bergmann
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 1 july 2012
MOLESTATION
“Hard prohibitions are necessary in order to live systematically... Strength isn’t affected by being a woman... I must use my authority continuously, even though it may seem insensitive to others....” The eyes of the female administrator widened after she murmured these words to herself.
She told her secretary not to be disturbed and began typing on her computer. She was almost frantic with excitement over the things she wrote. Sometimes her eyes stayed fixed at one point and she was envisioning three dimentional fiction from the words.
Two hours passed. She put the last period on her article, which resembled a political party announcement or a syndicate bulletin and bore no feeling or empathy. She remembered to write her name, title and date at the end. After signing, she picked up the phone and said, “ The difficulties of the opposition against my authority will simply have to be understood."
Her talk, complete with gestures, was reflected upon behind the misty glass. A few minutes later, a white-haired worker entered the room after knocking. He held the letter bestowed upon him. With a trembling hand, he went down the back steps, and read the letter quickly. He took a deep breath after wiping his sweat from his forehead and thought about the negative aspects of being a foreigner in a strange country.
His anxiety continued at home that evening. Watching his children wanting to sit on his lap to get rid of their own day’s troubles doubled his pain. That night he had chest pains and was taken to the hospital by an ambulance, where he died.
His loved ones visited his body in the morgue. His wife wasn’t able to stop her tears while she tried to speak of the cold winds that had changed the direction of their lives. How could their children be greeted in the future if no one knew of their heritage?
The event was forgotten. A few months later, the woman in the same work place said, “Continued effectiveness requires judgement... It must be my duty to continue struggling with foreigners using the best psychological methods... My strength isn’t affected by being a woman.”
She began typing on her computer after murmuring these words to herself and told her secretary not to be disturbed. She was again excited over the things she wrote. She remembered to write her name, title and date below her letter after she put the last period. After signing “Traces from the beginnings of everything reach to the end; forgetting things from the past will make my job easier...”, she said and picked up the phone. Her talk was reflected upon behind the misty glass. She handed the letter to her worker who entered the room after knocking on the door. She stretched out, relaxed, as her worker was going down the back steps. The waiting began...
Her worker took a deep breath at first. Then he folded the letter into his pocket. Sirens sounded in his ears. He felt as if he had died. Nobody noticed the disturbance reflected in his family life as his feelings closed down. Sales advertisements at reduced prices were given more attention than human rights declaration on the walls.
by Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Translated by Fide ERKEN and by Anne PROULX
Paris, 20.12.1998
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 1 july 2012
What Is Written in the Dark by War
You can no longer warm your cold hands, nor offer them in friendship. You have time to look back only once to see the life of your friendship with the flowers, the pleasure you take in love, the light ignited in your heart of hearts.
It is most unfortunate, but there are those who decide your tomorrows. Perhaps the month of March will not return, and the feet of a child will not break the snow. The marks left by war will not longer retire in the schools after you. Books will speak of you. Throw me once more into the arms of my mother, before the bloody marks show, before the agonies. Bid adieu to the flowers, their breath cut off. The time narrows and suffering tramples on your sentiments.
You will never forget while memories sink into living hearts. Why do they wish to make war instead of leaving their fears and resentments? Have you ever though about what they want of you? It is their internal enemy that mobilizes them!
I know that you find yourself facing the folly of those who cannot hear themselves. I can do nothing! I cannot prevent the animosity that makes you a target of killing and sorrow. You are a tiny tot - I love you dearly! Tomorrow the poisons embedded in the recipes of those who seek cover for their fears and complaints will slacken...passions will surely cause hands to tremble while they design with blood as their ink. You can be sure of it my child!
If your starving mother falls on her tears at the table before she can eat a morsel of bread, do not forget to give her a smile, my child! At present, you see who smells like oil, under the menacings of war. Iraq vibrates before your windows, and old lives. I know that flowers do not live in the mouths of canons...war holds grief, not joy, in its foyers! Throw yourself once more into the arms of your mother before the blood flows, and the suffering.
by Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Mantes la Ville, 01.03.2003
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 27 june 2012
The Marketplace Still Attaches Your Fool To Money
One does not sell
broken pottery,
look for profitable business.
A hump on her back
your wife Zâra
beats the wool
Let your hungry children
and your animals that wait for fodder
not cause you to brood;
the marketplace is always there
attaching your soul to money.
You sell your merchandise,
you make money,
you will not go to Nigde...
You remain without hope
in the marketplace.
Your customers hearing your voice
say "Halil is still here..."
Sell your apples
snatched from their branches
hope they are all eaten;
the marketplace is still there
attaching your soul to money.
You sell your merchandise,
you make money,
you will never go to Nigde...
Let indifference
not change you,
the shenanigans
and acrobatics
of all sorts -
let all that
from one direction
not tire your mind.
The marketplace is always there
attaching your soul to money.
You sell your merchandise,
you make money,
you will never go to Nigde...
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Traduit par Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick
NDTR: Nigde is a prefecture of Turkey
and Bor is a sub-prefecture of Nigde.
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 27 june 2012
FRIEND, YOU'RE NOT THE GUILTY ONE
Friend, you’re not the guilty one
The guilty ones are the evenings
See how they drag you down into this obscurity...
Trouble not yourself
Everyday’s "Love’s Labour Lost"
Vanishes away
Your eyes have learned
The meaning of love anyway
Learn how not to remember
Every point of suffering.
Remember not those eyes, those eyes
Have gone and they’ve enticed you into smoky cafés
Don’t go and believe
your eyes, they're just not
as sharp as they used to be
Friend, because you aren’t the guilty one,
The guilty ones are hopes
Leaving you to the shadows.
So what’s the use of fussing
If they’ve never understood
The poems your own baggy eyes
Have forgotten? ...
You’re alone in an unknown beyond
Your eyes are alone as well ...
You’re not guilty, friend
The guilty ones are hopes
Leaving you alone in darkness.
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
İstanbul, 20.02.1975
Translated from Turkish to French by Yakup Yurt
followed by English translation by Richard Vallance
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 27 june 2012
My Teacher
Superannuated children
At the tether of insensitivity,
These are your work -
Born of selfishness,
Each generation slips away
Further and further.
From every sideways glance
Aimed at revolt
Fleas give birth to dragons
And they do it from the underside
Of workbenches only partially covered with tablecloths.
The month of September in their eyes
Piles their up their hatreds day in and day out,
An anteroom for opportunists
A shelter annihilating love
And -
A prop
For confidence,
Whose opposite face falls into a ravine.
My teacher,
Before the wellspring
of your values dries up...
Draw near, and you'll see the capillary vessles
Of youth.
Draw near,
Before the last vestiges of your sensibilities
Are snuffed out, scattered by the winds of Time.
Oh, I know,
No matter what you plea,
Your inner Tribunal doesn't leave you free
So long as tomorrow drops suffering into your lap.
Events fall out on your right,
Secrets shake you up on your left
The source of worrying
Is in every tomorrow
Looming inside you...
Your accomplishments, my dear teacher,
Only see you
They can't see themselves!...
Üzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Paris, 30.04.2001
Traduit par Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Richard Vallance
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 27 june 2012
Where the Lilies Grow
Where the lilies grow
there are also insects;
a moment vanishes
from memory.
The world is like this
- the one dies,
the other is born.
Where the lilies grow
there are also insects.
Many things
remain in the depths
where flaws are not noticed.
Most of the time
writers, designers
teachers
do not discover the truth.
Where the lilies grow
there are also insects.
The world is like this
- the one dies,
the other is born.
by Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick - 2002
LA OU POUSSENT LES LYS
Là où poussent les lys
Il y a aussi des insectes…
Il arrive un moment disparaissent
De la mémoire…
Le monde est ainsi fait,
L’un meurt,
L’autre naît…
Là où poussent les lys
Il y a aussi des insectes…
Plusieurs choses
Restent dans les profondeurs…
On ne voit peut-être pas les défauts.
La plupart du temps
Les écrivains, les dessinateurs,
Les lecteurs
Ne découvrent pas la vérité…
Là où poussent les lys
Il y a aussi des insectes…
Le monde est ainsi fait,
L’un meurt,
L’autre naît…
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Paris, le 09.05.1999
Traduit par : Yakup YURT
«ZAMBAKLARIN AÇTIĞI YERDE» ŞARKILAŞTI :
Raphaël MIRAOUİ tarafından bestesi yapıldı
Pour écouter chanson de LA OU POUSSENT LES LYS :
To listen tosong LA OU POUSSENT LES LYS:
Um in LA OU POUSSENT LES LYS Lied hören :
Para escuchar la canción de LA OU POUSSENT LES LYS:
LA OU POUSSENT LES LYS şarkısını dinlemek için :
http://www.myspace.com/tableraz/music/songs?filter=popular
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 27 june 2012
Tomorrow the Sun Is Born for Us
Don't catch a cold
at the crossroads
of coldness;
speak of the shape
of guard railings.
So much language turns
every which way.
Tomorrow the sun
will be born for us.
How can one remain numb
to what he makes suffer?
Like night living
in the clarity of day.
In any event, we know
that the sheath for rudeness
is ever ready.
Tomorrow the sun
will be born for us.
Even if you work
to make the blackened slopes shine,
do they know
if you exist among them?
We know their goal,
and their scorn of you.
Let it go, do nothing
about all that has happened
every which way...
Tomorrow the sun
will be born for us.
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Magnanville, Le 16.03 .2000
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick, 25.10.2004
DEMAIN LE SOLEIL NAÎTRA POUR NOUS
Ne prends pas froid au carrefour
Des froideurs...
Raconte la forme
Des garde-fous
Tant que ta langue tourne...
De toute façon.
Demain le soleil
Naîtra pour nous...
Comment rester insensible
A ce qu’on t’a fait subir?
Comme vivre la nuit,
Dans la clarté du jour…
Nous savons qu’en tous cas
La gaine des grossièretés
Est prête…
Demain le soleil
Naîtra pour nous...
Même si ton labeur fait briller
Les versants noircis…
On ne sait pas,
Si tu existes…
Ou non parmi eux ?
Nous savons,
Leur but
Et de te mépriser…
Laisse…ne t’en fais pas
Tout ce qui est arrivé…
De tout façon
Demain le soleil
Naîtra pour nous...
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Magnanville, Le 16.03 .2000
Traduit par : Yakup YURT
"YARIN GÜNEŞ BİZİM İÇİN DOĞACAK" ŞARKILAŞTI :
Raphaël MIRAOUİ tarafından bestesi yapıldı
Compositeur et Interprète de TableRaz : Raphaël MIRAOUI
Pour écouter chanson de
DEMAIN LE SOLEIL NAÎTRA POUR NOUS :
http://www.myspace.com/tableraz/music/songs/demain-le-soleil-naitra-8933923
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 8 april 2012
Martial Dances
We live in strange times, my brother
men make money
with war dances
and occupation...
Do you not see the bombardments
and the pillaging?
Under the boot
you are worn out,
these days
the sweat of your brow
no longer serves you!
Tanks come from distant lands
passing down your streets
demanding to know
why you were born!
And you can say nothing.
Soon, if this continues,
it will be the course of progress
to be denied learning.
One speaks of the rights of man
here and there.
Do not believe those rumors!
You see that nothing is in place now!
We live in strange times my brother,
arms dealing,
construction
governing the land.
Is it so difficult to understand?
They sell the merchandise of war!
Come listen to my counsel.
Don't marry, it is unsupportable
to suffer the massacre of your children.
The success of your affairs depends
on producing fictitious enemies
to menace...
In this manner
they take over small countries
one after the other
under the pretext of saving them.
While you fight amongst yourselves
others consume your underground resources.
What should I tell you;
do these times plant sorrow
in your hearts?
Be a little understanding!
Increase the number of fratricidal wars,
divide your people further
to make the lives of the invaders easier.
Do not forget that to destroy love
requires only this:
Live in a society without love
and don't educate anyone...
Live in the clarity of obscurity,
depend only on yourself!
The sun rises and sets on time...
the throats of cocks are cut
that sing before the hour!
We live in strange times my brother,
men make money with war dances
and occupation...
Do you not see the bombardments
and the pillaging?
By Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Paris, 17.03.2003
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick - 2003
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 8 april 2012
Those who dance to the rhythm of their own music
Those who nourish themselves on meats, dairy products and desserts
Cannot estimate you at your fair value.
Even if stone cracked, you cannot make them open
The windows of their farm …
People like you are not included in their center of interest
You do not exist …
Hereafter you must know
That they do not have time to bless you!
Their eyes are always fixed from above you
While they bow
With smiles above their double chins
Before the sovereign...the sultan.
Do you think for an instant that they acknowledge you?
If you ask my opinion on this subject
It is because the ends of their twine
Are in the hands of other people.
Don't take exception to the fact
That they are taken for kings!
Do not wait for them
In the wrong places
Vainly hoping
They will consider you a man …
Even if you write hundreds of letters
To these men of the closed doors
Intending to see or speak to them
You will not receive a single response …
Be wary and attentive;
Above everything
Allow them their haughty airs.
By thinking themselves important
They will look at you scornfully!
They well like fondling
Each others' backs …
It is no longer to the point
To listen to their dialogues "with admiration"
To extol their writings "enthusiastically"
To reward their facts "by clapping" …
Do not waste your time
Or put your attention here …
Think of other things.
by Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Paris, 20.06.2007
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI, 8 april 2012
İSTANBUL
The dock birds
pull me to the sea
like I am pulled to suffering,
to Istanbul, that wrings sorrows
that fall on me.
Solitude without you.
In this obscure city,
my blood clotting,
I am snowed under with dreams.
The wide streets accentuate your absence.
Istanbul takes me from city to city.
This great place is well-versed
in my suffering,
the dock birds pull me
to their tired nights
and Istanbul searches
top to bottom.
Solitude without you.
by Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Aksaray, Istanbul, 13.03.1975
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick - 2002
ISTANBUL
Les oiseaux de quai
Me traînent vers les mers
Comme si je courais vers les souffrances
Istanbul se tord de douleurs
Au fur et à mesure que tombent sur moi
Les solitudes sans toi...
Dans cette ville obscure
Avec mon sang coagulé
Je déborde mes rêves
Les rues vides accentuent ton absence
Istanbul t'emmène de ville en ville...
Cette ville si grande se verse dans mes souffrances
Les oiseaux de quai me traînent
A leurs nuits fatiguées
Et là-bas Istanbul fouille de fond en comble
La solitude sans toi.
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Aksaray, Istanbul, le 13.03.1975
Traduit par : Yakup YURT
Pour écouter chanson d'Istanbul :
To listen to song Istanbul :
Um in Istanbul Lied hören :
Para escuchar la canción de Estambul :
İstanbul şarkısını dinlemek için :
http://www.myspace.com/tableraz/videos/istanbul/21269277
Latest comments:
27 april 2024
kb
hm tutaj pokazano niejako wprost sprawcę światła.
27 april 2024
sufit, uśmiech i barany... no tak to jest, sama
27 april 2024
"wszystkie modlitwy wymyślili grzesznicy"
27 april 2024
social-real. bardzo fajnie ujęte
26 april 2024
jeśli tylko
właśnie :)
26 april 2024
Adam Pietras (Barry Kant)
Dzięki, Violetta!
25 april 2024
violetta
Dziękuję:)
25 april 2024
Bociany są takie ufne:)
25 april 2024
Yaro
Bardzo kobiecy wiersz:) Pozdrawiam:)
25 april 2024
Bardzo prawdziwe słowa.
25 april 2024
eyesOFsoul
A nawet mniej.
25 april 2024
Piękne:)
27 april 2024
Satish Verma
26 april 2024
wiesiek
26 april 2024
Satish Verma
25 april 2024
wiesiek
25 april 2024
Satish Verma
24 april 2024
Satish Verma
23 april 2024
Adam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
Satish Verma
21 april 2024
sam53
21 april 2024
wiesiek