Şairinin Sustuğu Yerden / From Where the Poet Is Sushed – Serdar Topaloğlu

Serdar Topaloğlu: I was born in Samsun on the 31st July 1997. I graduated from Kocaeli Deniz Yıldızları Anadolu Technical High School. I am continuing my studies at Ondokuz Mayıs University Health Management Department. I’ve served as a text editor at Nüsgü Literary Magazine and as editor of Babylon Poetry City Magazine. My poems have been and is contuniung to be published in such magazines and fanzines as Nüsgü, Lirik, Sin Edebiyat, Tmolos, Babylon, Edebiyat Nöbeti etc.


From Where the Poet Is Sushed

Translated with the author’s approval by Ege Dündar

 

I reached for my cigarette gently;

Additive to my arid lifetime.

That day I passed away my rose,

I won’t die once more…

Metin Altıok*

I.

Another leaf falls off my tree of life

I wipe your silhouette from the mirror of my eyes

Traces of your lipstick, bloodstains on my lapel, persistent pomegranate on my lips

 

Like castles of sand rising from seashores

My shivering, unravelled at each wave

Even ragman won’t deal my body

Neither heavy in weight / nor value!

 

Carried all this time in vain

 

My heart as though it would tear wherever I pull

 

II.

I asked questions, gave birth to answers

Took off the shirt you sewed

With your hair stitch by stitch

 

I remember well, the wind was high

Birds all above us, some scent of moss

The sea would crumble on us if we let it be

You were afraid

 

When it’s ferries are off duty! Istanbul gets desolate

 

It’s two sides as though they would coalesce wherever I pull

 

III.

Love: a rusty nail hammered in my brain

Words: carpenters to my body

In my veins the ebb and tides of tetanus

In my hands the pins I use to sew my eyes to syllables

 

The sun and the moon in two separate points, two distinct, dark silhouettes

I pass by the streets

Captivity rots in my breath

 

Homeros and poetry: my life’s milestone

This is why I respect the alphabets

And revere the letters

 

From where it’s poet is shushed! Another poem rips

 

Papers have spirits too

And they too burn

 

Ever after! my heart will tear from where you hold


*Metin Altıok (March 14, 1940 – July 9, 1993) a renown Turkish poet of Alevi faith, who – together with 34 other intellectuals and artists, mostly of Alevi descent – fell victim to the 1993 Sivas massacre.


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