Monthly Archives: September 2013

Poem 58 In Solidarity: You Who Wronged

Czeslaw Milosz.Tr.Richard Lourie

As an act of solidarity with the spirit of the Turkish resistance, prominent fiction writer, Nadeem Aslam sends in Czeslaw Milosz’s poem on the Poetry Foundation website as translated by Richard Lourie. Thanks Nadeem!

You Who Wronged

You who wronged a simple man
Bursting into laughter at the crime,
And kept a pack of fools around you
To mix good and evil, to blur the line… MORE

From The Collected Poems: 1931-1987 (The Ecco Press, 1988). The complete poem can be found at the Poetry Foundation website

Nadeem Aslam

Nadeem Aslam

Nadeem Aslam is the author of three previous novels, Season of the Rainbirds (1993), Maps for Lost Lovers (2004) – longlisted for the Booker Prize, shortlisted for the IMPAC Prize, and awarded the Kiriyama Prize and the Encore Award – and The Wasted Vigil (2008), described by A. S. Byatt as ‘unforgettable … tragic and beautifully written’.

His latest novel is The Blind Man’s Garden (2013)- set in Pakistan and Afghanistan in the months following 9/11: a story of war, of one family’s losses, and of the simplest, most enduring human impulses.

Born in Gujranwala,Pakistan, he now lives in England.

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Poem 57 in Solidarity: AĞAÇLARIN HATIRALARI

by Yaprak Öz

AĞAÇLARIN HATIRALARI

Büyüklere Tabiat Bilgisi dersi:
Biz gece yarısı bahçesi,
biz haydut sürüsü görülen ağaçlardık.
Doğuştan afsunlu birtakım çocuklar
gelip kucağımıza oturdu,
dallarımıza dokunup kitap okudular.
Akordu bozuk bir orkestra
kızdı onlara, neşeli şarkılar
söylediler diye.
Gecenin son,
gündüzün ilk saatleri
başladı bir alabanda ateşi,
güneş bulutların ardına kaçtı
ama korkmadı çocuklar,
güneş de korkmadı o zaman.
Gönül çeken bir şey oldu ansızın,
ne çok afsunlu varmış şehirde.
Hepsi çıktılar evlerinden aşıkane,
kırkta yılda bir akan ırmak oldular.
Ah ne güzeldi bilseniz,
izlemek onları.
Panayır yeriydi köklerimizi serdiğimiz park,
çiçek tohumları doluydu genç kızların avuçları,
sokak çocukları bile mutluydu çok.

Biz, şehir meydanındaki ağaçlar,
doluyuz hatıralarla şimdi.
Ölmezlik suyu içtik, hep yaşayacağız
bu hatıraları yaratanların içinde.
Yapraklarını kışın da dökmez umutları çocukların,
ayaz paşa ortalıkta kol gezse bile.

Yaprak Oz

Yaprak Oz

Yaprak Öz 1973 yılında doğdu. İstanbul Üniversitesi’nde Amerikan Kültürü ve Edebiyatı bölümünde öğrenimini tamamladı. Şiirleri 1997 yılından beri Türkiye ve Avrupa’da çeşitli edebiyat dergilerinde yayınlanmaktadır.

 İlk şiir kitabı, “Fırtına Günlüğü” 2006 yılında yayınlandı.
İkinci şiir kitabı, “Şiirli Müzik Kutusu” 2009 yılında yayınlandı ve Cemal Süreya Başarı Ödülü’ne layık görüldü.
Üçüncü şiir kitabı, “Bir, İki, Üç Gökyüzü” 2012 yılında yayınlandı.
Korku-gerilim türündeki llk romanı, “Berlinli Apartmanı”2013 ylında yayınlandı.

Yaprak Öz was born in 1973. She studied American Literature in the University of Istanbul. Her poems have been published in various magazines since 1997. Her first book Diary of The Storm was published in 2006. In 2009 she published her second book Music Box With Poems which won the 2010 Cemal Süreya Successful Poetry Book Award. Her third book One, Two, Three Sky has been published in 2012. Her novel The Berliner Apartment, a murder mystery was published in 2013.  She lives in Istanbul.

Poem 56 in Solidarity: Rune of the Finland Woman

by Marilyn Hacker

For Sára Karig

“You are so wise,” the reindeer said, “you can bind the winds of the world in a single strand.”—H. C. Andersen, “The Snow Queen”

She could bind the world’s winds in a single strand.
She could find the world’s words in a singing wind.
She could lend a weird will to a mottled hand.
She could wind a willed word from a muddled mind.

She could wend the wild woods on a saddled hind.
She could sound a wellspring with a rowan wand.
She could bind the wolf’s wounds in a swaddling band.
She could bind a banned book in a silken skin.

She could spend a world war on invaded land.
She could pound the dry roots to a kind of bread.
She could feed a road gang on invented food.
She could find the spare parts of the severed dead.

She could find the stone limbs in a waste of sand.
She could stand the pit cold with a withered lung.
She could handle bad puns in the slang she learned.
She could dandle foundlings in their mother tongue.

She could plait a child’s hair with a fishbone comb.
She could tend a coal fire in the Arctic wind.
She could mend an engine with a sewing pin.
She could warm the dark feet of a dying man.

She could drink the stone soup from a doubtful well.
She could breathe the green stink of a trench latrine.
She could drink a queen’s share of important wine.
She could think a few things she would never tell.

She could learn the hand code of the deaf and blind.
She could earn the iron keys of the frozen queen.
She could wander uphill with a drunken friend.
She could bind the world’s winds in a single strand.

Marilyn Hacker

Marilyn Hacker

Marilyn Hacker is the author of twelve books of poems, including Names (Norton, 2010) and Essays on Departure (Carcanet, 2006) ,an essay collection, Unauthorized Voices (Michigan, 2010), and thirteen collections of translations from the French.  She lives in Paris.