Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Selahattin Yolgiden

Van Gogh

on the night, when the stars fell to the ground
to kiss their shadows
you, the rambler, found a gleam among the grass
that is how your destiny has been written.

after all those battles and destruction
someone walks through the square, looking at
the hanged bodies, he feels grateful to be alive.

you can read your past on the surroundings
of the grave in the garden: it is your name.
you have lived as much as you have cried

when the night, honoured by the stars,
came like a dark kitten
rubbing against my foot,
I became a brunette

saturday in arles
all the stars, large and small,
are singing now in chorus

"a salute to van gogh, one of those of the not newborns
he would remember us better than anyone"

Van Gogh

Van Gogh

yıldızların gölgelerini
öpmek için yere düştükleri gece
otların arasında bir ışık bulan avare,
kaderin böyle yazıldı senin!

bunca savaştan ve yıkımdan sonra
meydandan geçen biri, asılmış insanlara
bakarak, yaşadığına minnettar.

bahçedeki mezar taşının etrafında
oku geçmişini: o senin adın
ne kadar ağladıysan o kadar yaşadın.

yıldızların şereflendirdiği gece
bir kara kedi gibi gelip
sürtününce ayağıma
esmer oldum ben de

arles’da cumartesi
koro halinde şarkı söylüyor
irili ufaklı bütün yıldızlar

“eski kulağı kesiklerden van gogh’a selam
bizi en iyi o hatırlar”
Close

Van Gogh

on the night, when the stars fell to the ground
to kiss their shadows
you, the rambler, found a gleam among the grass
that is how your destiny has been written.

after all those battles and destruction
someone walks through the square, looking at
the hanged bodies, he feels grateful to be alive.

you can read your past on the surroundings
of the grave in the garden: it is your name.
you have lived as much as you have cried

when the night, honoured by the stars,
came like a dark kitten
rubbing against my foot,
I became a brunette

saturday in arles
all the stars, large and small,
are singing now in chorus

"a salute to van gogh, one of those of the not newborns
he would remember us better than anyone"

Van Gogh

on the night, when the stars fell to the ground
to kiss their shadows
you, the rambler, found a gleam among the grass
that is how your destiny has been written.

after all those battles and destruction
someone walks through the square, looking at
the hanged bodies, he feels grateful to be alive.

you can read your past on the surroundings
of the grave in the garden: it is your name.
you have lived as much as you have cried

when the night, honoured by the stars,
came like a dark kitten
rubbing against my foot,
I became a brunette

saturday in arles
all the stars, large and small,
are singing now in chorus

"a salute to van gogh, one of those of the not newborns
he would remember us better than anyone"
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