I am in the half of the way,
My hands on my temples,
In my saddlebag 35 years old tales
S h a t t e r e d
Kemalettin Tugcu deceived me in my childhood(1)
The good would always win.
His heroes now,
Are in the backstreets of Beyoglu(2)
Polyanna also was a victim of an unsolved murder
For 15 years she is lying at full length
Her wound is still bleeding…
Having colloborated with Prometheus
Have burned down our good intentions…
Nastasya Filipovna, too,
Anna Karenina, too,
Madame Bovary, too,
Being defeated to what is taught in the way of love
Would any blue be left hereabouts?..
There was a raid to the sun
O v e r
He would see good days
Longing for his mothertown he is g o n e…
Living is for as much as resistance
Why did they who resist die when they were cions
Was Kafka tuberculous because he was in love?
How about Nietzsche, was he a womanhater because he had the pox?
Did Oğuz Atay(3) commit suicide because he could not hold on?
If it is a GOOD thing to hold on
why can THE GOOD not h o l d o n…
LOVE the deepest blue,
If turns green in naturality,
Why are relationships lived like chess…
If it is not blameworthy to be Tahir,
Why does everybody choose being Zuhre…(4)
I emptied my saddlebag,
My hopes longing for blue came out
I put them for sale
I s n o t t h e r e s o m e b o d y t o b u y t h e m!..
In fact these hopes were,
What were heavy in my saddleback…
(1) A Turkish writer who is famous for his sad but hopeful stories which are usually about poverty, beggary etc (1902-1996). Many of his stories are used as scenerios for various Turkish TV series.
(2) A famous district of Istanbul, where Istiklal Street is.
(3) A Turkish writer who is well-known with his novel Tutunamayanlar (The Ones Who Cannot Hold On)
(4) These two lines refers to Nazim Hikmet's famous poem Tahir'le Zühre Meselesi (Tahir and Zühre's Matter).