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Poem

Behçet Necatigil

THE DERVISH

On the asphalt plains walks the dervish
Over falling shop shutters forever
Linger the fountains of sorrow: lamps.

First slowly like a flowing skin bag
from tigresses of old, it glides up to our shores
and the first bedouin leaps up and enters our tent.

Where then is leyla, and where is aslı?
Raids and plunders and leyla!
The dervish hurls himself into the ferhat mountains –
There must be a lighthouse somewhere ahead.

Weary boats returning to shallow waters
Searching for the old quenched lighthouse
They cannot see for fire and tobacco smoke –
A voice rings out in the darkness: the rocks, the rocks!

Even in the ages when fire was first found
The lamps still burned as they do now,
Then later on the asphalt plains
Came the floods and the dervish.

ABDAL

ABDAL

Yürür asfalt ovalarda abdal.
Vitrinlerin düşen kepenklerinde
Hep hüzün çeşmeleri: lambalar.

Yüzer gibi önce bir tulum yavaşça
Yanaşır kıyımıza eski diclelerden
Ve fırlar ilk bedevî, dalar çadırımıza.

Nerde bu leylâ, aslı nerde?
Çıkartmalar, yağma ve leylâ!
Vurur ferhat dağlarına abdal - -
Bir fener olacak ilerde bir yerde.

Sığ sulara dönen yorgun gemiler
Yangın ve tütün içinde arar da
Görmez geçer sönmüş eski feneri - - 
Bir ses çınlar karanlıkta: Kayalar!

Ateşin daha yeni bulunduğu çağlarda
Yine böyle yanardı bu lambalar,
Sonra asfalt ovalarda
Akan seller ve abdal.

Close

THE DERVISH

On the asphalt plains walks the dervish
Over falling shop shutters forever
Linger the fountains of sorrow: lamps.

First slowly like a flowing skin bag
from tigresses of old, it glides up to our shores
and the first bedouin leaps up and enters our tent.

Where then is leyla, and where is aslı?
Raids and plunders and leyla!
The dervish hurls himself into the ferhat mountains –
There must be a lighthouse somewhere ahead.

Weary boats returning to shallow waters
Searching for the old quenched lighthouse
They cannot see for fire and tobacco smoke –
A voice rings out in the darkness: the rocks, the rocks!

Even in the ages when fire was first found
The lamps still burned as they do now,
Then later on the asphalt plains
Came the floods and the dervish.

THE DERVISH

On the asphalt plains walks the dervish
Over falling shop shutters forever
Linger the fountains of sorrow: lamps.

First slowly like a flowing skin bag
from tigresses of old, it glides up to our shores
and the first bedouin leaps up and enters our tent.

Where then is leyla, and where is aslı?
Raids and plunders and leyla!
The dervish hurls himself into the ferhat mountains –
There must be a lighthouse somewhere ahead.

Weary boats returning to shallow waters
Searching for the old quenched lighthouse
They cannot see for fire and tobacco smoke –
A voice rings out in the darkness: the rocks, the rocks!

Even in the ages when fire was first found
The lamps still burned as they do now,
Then later on the asphalt plains
Came the floods and the dervish.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère