Poem
Mustafa Köz
LYRICS TO WINTER
I.The half-burnt tree saw
me kissing you,
and two crows heaving
to the only fruit on the tree.
II.
Your first mouth that I kissed;
your narrow mouth, your cheekbone,
a Doric gate, we, the Ionians,
and the world bathed in sunlight.
III.
Your cooing neck,
your neck at the back of beyond
you, the only sad pigeon in Parma
I love you, keep that in mind.
IV.
Your eyes, a pair of garden gates
one opens inwards, the other outwards
but side by side, at the same time
V.
You undressed here, not for me
for the world
was it opal or agate, the ring on your finger?
VI.
You were a little girl flying in,
your heart was a black box probably,
which will be opened after you go.
VII.
You planted basil in a pot,
In a pot which thinks itself a garden.
VIII.
I said each mountain is a summary of a mountain range
I’m glad I didn't forget that, even if
It means the burnt branches best understand the tree.
IX.
Sixth of March ninety-three,
Bedri died, my brother,
who laughs as if sighing
a handful of corn, an amber stone.
X.
You got it from my thinning face,
from my drowning voice,
I have been through a winter of sorrow.
XI.
Was it a telephone or a horn shell
that you stared at and blew in,
I’m now thinking of this,
but really what was it?
XII:
What we did was not making love,
it was something else again
was it my tongue or my mouth
that bloomed when I kissed you
I’m now thinking of this,
but really what was it?
XIII.
It was not the timbre, but my flesh lingered
where my voice brushed yours
XIV.
I’m tired of understanding everything,
Do you think this world was right;
not you, but poetry
saved me getting lost at night.
KIŞ\'A LİRİK
KIŞ\'A LİRİK
I.Öptüğümü gördü seni,
yarı yarıya yanmış ağaç
iki karga inip kalkan
ağaçtaki tek yemişe.
II.
İlk ağzındı öptüğüm;
dar ağzın, elmacık kemiğin
Dor kapısı ve biz İyonyalıyız
dünya, günlük güneşlik.
III.
Kuğuran boynundu,
kuş uçmaz kervan geçmez boynun
Parma’nın tek üzgün güvercini
seviyorum seni, aklında bulunsun.
IV.
İki bahçe kapısıydı gözlerin,
biri açılırdı içeri, dışarı öteki
yan yana, aynı anda.
V.
Şurada soyunmuştun, bana değil
dünyaya soyunmuştun
akik mi opal mi bir yüzük, parmağında.
VI.
Uça uça gelen bir kız çocuğuydun,
karakutuydu belki de kalbin,
ölümünden sonra açılacak.
VII.
Fesleğen dikmiştin saksıya,
kendini bahçe sanan bir saksıya.
VIII.
Bir dağ, özetidir sıradağların demiştim
iyi ki de tutmuşum aklımda
yanığı anlar ağacını, demekti biraz da bu.
IX.
Altı mart doksan üçtü,
Bedri öldü, kardeşim benim
içini çeker gibi gülen
bir şinik buğday, oltutaşı.
X.
İncelen yüzümden anladın
boğulan sesimden
acı dolu bir kış geçirdim.
XI.
Telefon muydu, şeytanminaresi mi
bakıp bakıp üflediğin içine
şimdi bunu düşünüyorum
sahi neydi o?
XII.
Sevişmek değildi bu bizimkisi,
başka türlü bir şey
dilim miydi, ağzım mıydı
büyüyen öpünce seni
şimdi bunu düşünüyorum
sahi neydi o?
XIII.
Sesinin sesime değdiği yerde
tını değil, tenimdi can çekişen.
XIV.
Haklı mıydı sence bu acun;
yorgunum her şeyi anlamaktan
sen değil, şiir korudu beni
kaybolup yok olmaktan.
© 1995, Mustafa Koz
From: Salıdan Önceki Pazartesi
Publisher: Tüm Zamanlar Yayıncılık,
From: Salıdan Önceki Pazartesi
Publisher: Tüm Zamanlar Yayıncılık,
Poems
Poems of Mustafa Köz
Close
LYRICS TO WINTER
I.The half-burnt tree saw
me kissing you,
and two crows heaving
to the only fruit on the tree.
II.
Your first mouth that I kissed;
your narrow mouth, your cheekbone,
a Doric gate, we, the Ionians,
and the world bathed in sunlight.
III.
Your cooing neck,
your neck at the back of beyond
you, the only sad pigeon in Parma
I love you, keep that in mind.
IV.
Your eyes, a pair of garden gates
one opens inwards, the other outwards
but side by side, at the same time
V.
You undressed here, not for me
for the world
was it opal or agate, the ring on your finger?
VI.
You were a little girl flying in,
your heart was a black box probably,
which will be opened after you go.
VII.
You planted basil in a pot,
In a pot which thinks itself a garden.
VIII.
I said each mountain is a summary of a mountain range
I’m glad I didn't forget that, even if
It means the burnt branches best understand the tree.
IX.
Sixth of March ninety-three,
Bedri died, my brother,
who laughs as if sighing
a handful of corn, an amber stone.
X.
You got it from my thinning face,
from my drowning voice,
I have been through a winter of sorrow.
XI.
Was it a telephone or a horn shell
that you stared at and blew in,
I’m now thinking of this,
but really what was it?
XII:
What we did was not making love,
it was something else again
was it my tongue or my mouth
that bloomed when I kissed you
I’m now thinking of this,
but really what was it?
XIII.
It was not the timbre, but my flesh lingered
where my voice brushed yours
XIV.
I’m tired of understanding everything,
Do you think this world was right;
not you, but poetry
saved me getting lost at night.
From: Salıdan Önceki Pazartesi
LYRICS TO WINTER
I.The half-burnt tree saw
me kissing you,
and two crows heaving
to the only fruit on the tree.
II.
Your first mouth that I kissed;
your narrow mouth, your cheekbone,
a Doric gate, we, the Ionians,
and the world bathed in sunlight.
III.
Your cooing neck,
your neck at the back of beyond
you, the only sad pigeon in Parma
I love you, keep that in mind.
IV.
Your eyes, a pair of garden gates
one opens inwards, the other outwards
but side by side, at the same time
V.
You undressed here, not for me
for the world
was it opal or agate, the ring on your finger?
VI.
You were a little girl flying in,
your heart was a black box probably,
which will be opened after you go.
VII.
You planted basil in a pot,
In a pot which thinks itself a garden.
VIII.
I said each mountain is a summary of a mountain range
I’m glad I didn't forget that, even if
It means the burnt branches best understand the tree.
IX.
Sixth of March ninety-three,
Bedri died, my brother,
who laughs as if sighing
a handful of corn, an amber stone.
X.
You got it from my thinning face,
from my drowning voice,
I have been through a winter of sorrow.
XI.
Was it a telephone or a horn shell
that you stared at and blew in,
I’m now thinking of this,
but really what was it?
XII:
What we did was not making love,
it was something else again
was it my tongue or my mouth
that bloomed when I kissed you
I’m now thinking of this,
but really what was it?
XIII.
It was not the timbre, but my flesh lingered
where my voice brushed yours
XIV.
I’m tired of understanding everything,
Do you think this world was right;
not you, but poetry
saved me getting lost at night.
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère