#turkish poetry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rueyam · 8 months

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turkish is so beautiful

#sait faik abasıyanık #turkish poetry #poetry #love #my edit #musings

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postcardswithoutanaddress · 6 months

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" he who longs to meet you through his days and looks at the sky when you are away. whose world lights up with your smile and whose ruined house turns into a warm home with your voice and approaching footsteps. who falls deeper every time he looks into your eyes. who dishevells himself to fulfill your every whim. "

~ postcardswithoutanaddress

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deadpoetsdeath · 11 months

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For the love of a rose, the gardener becomes the slave of a thousand thorns.

—Turkish Proverb

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manwalksintobar · 2 months

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Things I Didn't Know I Loved // Nazim Hikmet

it’s 1962 March 28th I’m sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train night is falling I never knew I liked night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain I don’t like comparing nightfall to a tired bird

I didn’t know I loved the earth can someone who hasn’t worked the earth love it I’ve never worked the earth it must be my only Platonic love

and here I’ve loved rivers all this time whether motionless like this they curl skirting the hills European hills crowned with chateaus or whether stretched out flat as far as the eye can see I know you can’t wash in the same river even once I know the river will bring new lights you'll never see I know we live slightly longer than a horse but not nearly as long as a crow I know this has troubled people before and will trouble those after me I know all this has been said a thousand times before and will be said after me

I didn’t know I loved the sky cloudy or clear the blue vault Andrei studied on his back at Borodino in prison I translated both volumes of War and Peace into Turkish I hear voices not from the blue vault but from the yard the guards are beating someone again I didn’t know I loved trees bare beeches near Moscow in Peredelkino they come upon me in winter noble and modest beeches are Russian the way poplars are Turkish “the poplars of Izmir losing their leaves. . . they call me The Knife. . . lover like a young tree. . . I blow stately mansions sky-high” in the Ilgaz woods in 1920 I tied an embroidered linen handkerchief to a pine bough for luck

I never knew I loved roads even the asphalt kind Vera's behind the wheel we're driving from Moscow to the Crimea Koktebele formerly “Goktepé ili” in Turkish the two of us inside a closed box the world flows past on both sides distant and mute I was never so close to anyone in my life bandits stopped me on the red road between Bolu and Geredé when I was eighteen apart from my life I didn’t have anything in the wagon they could take and at eighteen our lives are what we value least I’ve written this somewhere before wading through a dark muddy street I'm going to the shadow play Ramazan night a paper lantern leading the way maybe nothing like this ever happened maybe I read it somewhere an eight-year-old boy going to the shadow play Ramazan night in Istanbul holding his grandfather’s hand his grandfather has on a fez and is wearing the fur coat with a sable collar over his robe and there’s a lantern in the servant’s hand and I can’t contain myself for joy flowers come to mind for some reason poppies cactuses jonquils in the jonquil garden in Kadikoy Istanbul I kissed Marika fresh almonds on her breath I was seventeen my heart on a swing touched the sky I didn’t know I loved flowers friends sent me three red carnations in prison

I just remembered the stars I love them too whether I’m floored watching them from below or whether I'm flying at their side

I have some questions for the cosmonauts were the stars much bigger did they look like huge jewels on black velvet or apricots on orange did you feel proud to get closer to the stars I saw color photos of the cosmos in Ogonek magazine now don’t be upset comrades but nonfigurative shall we say or abstract well some of them looked just like such paintings which is to say they were terribly figurative and concrete my heart was in my mouth looking at them they are our endless desire to grasp things seeing them I could even think of death and not feel at all sad I never knew I loved the cosmos

snow flashes in front of my eyes both heavy wet steady snow and the dry whirling kind I didn’t know I liked snow

I never knew I loved the sun even when setting cherry-red as now in Istanbul too it sometimes sets in postcard colors but you aren’t about to paint it that way I didn’t know I loved the sea except the Sea of Azov or how much

I didn’t know I loved clouds whether I’m under or up above them whether they look like giants or shaggy white beasts

moonlight the falsest the most languid the most petit-bourgeois strikes me I like it

I didn’t know I liked rain whether it falls like a fine net or splatters against the glass my heart leaves me tangled up in a net or trapped inside a drop and takes off for uncharted countries I didn’t know I loved rain but why did I suddenly discover all these passions sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train is it because I lit my sixth cigarette one alone could kill me is it because I’m half dead from thinking about someone back in Moscow her hair straw-blond eyelashes blue

the train plunges on through the pitch-black night I never knew I liked the night pitch-black sparks fly from the engine I didn’t know I loved sparks I didn’t know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return

19 April 1962 Moscow

#poetry #Nazim Hikmet #Turkish poetry #Ottoman poetry #Salonika #Thessaloniki #Moscow #Izmir #loving the world anyway #poems of praise #despair #the beautiful earth #love #poplars #moonlight #rain #apricots #1962

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thedelusionalselenophile · 4 months

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Siz benim nasıl yandığımı nereden bileceksiniz...?

How will you know how I burned...?

*Credits go to rightful owners

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busraspostsblog · 17 days

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Bir damla inciydi kirpiklerinde,

Aşkın ıstırapla dolu rüyası

Bir başka güzellik var kederinde

Bir başka âlem ki ruhunun yası,

Sessiz incileşir kirpiklerinde.

Ahmed Hamdi Tanpınar - Leylâ

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waning-star · 11 months

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“Never judge people by their past. People learn, people change”

#quotes #writings #lines #aesthetic #dark academia #fyp #arabic lines #arabic poetry #arabic quotes #turkish poetry #today on tumblr #life quotes #change #people

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astereaus · 1 year

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"I — with all that was bravest and meanest in me, strongest and weakest — I thought of the world, my country, and you."

Nazim Hikmet, Istanbul House of Detention

#nazim hikmet #turkish #poetry #literature #dark academia aesthetic #dark academia quotes #quotes #dark academia #arabic love poems #arabic poetry #english lit #classical academia #turkish literature #turkish poetry

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asnowperson · 11 months

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Natsu no Guuwa by Yamagishi Ryouko (1976)

I'll spare you the long and winded road that got me to Yamagishi Ryouko's Tennin Karakusa (天人唐草) one shot collection... I was supposed to find the bunkoban edition of it, but because I did my research half-assedly, I got the scans from the 1980 collection with the same title. I was bummed that I didn't get the one shot I was looking for (which was 狐女 (Kitsunejo-Fox Lady, 1981) btw), and was skimming through the one shots in the 1980 book in mild disappointment. The last page of one of the stories caught my eye, because of the text taking up the bottom of the page and my brain going "Huh? Isn't that Hiroshima Peace Memorial?". When I read the first line of what's written on that page, I almost fell off my chair. I KNEW what it was. It was a poem by the great Turkish poet Nazım Hikmet, Hiroshima Child (Kız Çocuğu, 死んだ女の子, 1956).

Now, I had to read this one shot. Natsu no Guuwa (夏の寓話 - Summer Fable) was first published in the 1976 August issue of Seventeen magazine, and later compiled in a bunch of books I'm too lazy to list here. None of them are available as e-books anyway, so it wouldn't be of much use... I'll revisit the list when I buy one of them, because I know I will buy a copy for myself.

The story takes place in Hiroshima during a hot, hot summer. University student Sumio has to spend his summer home sitting and taking care of fish and birds, and getting bored to death. He comes across a girl in the park who never plays with the other kids and who is always alone. The two get closer, however, the girl is acting strange and can't even remember her own name. Sumio tries to figure out her circumstances, only to find that she is the ghost of a little girl who died during the Hiroshima bombing in 1945.

I couldn't find any background info on this, but I'm almost positive that this is a manga adaptation of Nazım Hikmet's poem, and the poem is not there as a decoration. The imagery used in the poem, the little girl knocking on doors (windows, in this case), her burning and turning into ash, is weaved into the story in a most striking way. It's not telling the real-life story that made Nazım (yes, we call him by his first name) write that poem, but a whole new story based on the poem itself. I LOVED Yamagishi's take on this literary work, and felt elated to see a compatriot in a manga by an artist I respect a lot.

It is also in one tiny panel, but there is a guy criticizing the younger generation for being "apolitical" in this manga (see: しらけ世代), which I found interesting. Is Yamagishi condoning people who belong to that generation? Does she criticize the youth dor being apolitical and not caring about their country? Or is she trying to show that despite appearances, they care in their own way? As I'm not Japanese and I wasn't even alive in 1976, I lack the proper background to make a sound assessment on that. But still, it made me aware such concerns also existed in Japan. Isn't this the beauty of reading older manga? They make you think about stuff you'd normally wouldn't think about with a single bubble.

I canot stress it enough, but seeing what Nazım's poem made Yamagishi feel was a very unexpected yet great experience for me. This one shot will hold a special place in my heart.

#yamagishi ryouko #ryouko yamagishi #山岸凉子 #24年組 #year 24 group #70s shojo #70s manga #vintage shoujo #retro shoujo #retro manga #vintage manga #nazım hikmet #hiroshima #夏の寓話 #natsu no guuwa #summer fable #poetry #turkish poetry

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milayawr · 10 months

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Beni öyle bir yalana inandır ki, ömrümce sürsün doğruluğu.

make me believe in such a lie that its truth will last all my life.

— Ozdemir Asaf

#turkish poetry #literature #poetry #turkish #özdemir asaf #books

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trickster-spirit · 7 months

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youtube

musician: Özgür Baba

instrument: Turkish Cura

composer: Yunus Emre, a Turkish Sufi mystic contemporary of Rumi

poem title / translation: Benim Adim Dertli Dolap / Endless Trouble Is My Name

poem translation:

Water-wheel, why do you moan?

For I am sorrowful, that is why I moan.

To the Lord I've given my soul,

For I've troubles, I moan.

Troubled water-wheel is my name,

My water flows pure,

As the Lord wishes thus,

For I am sorrowful, that is why I moan.

They found me as a mountain tree,

They broke my arms and cut my wings,

They thought me fit for a water-wheel,

For I've troubles, I moan.

From a mountain I was brought down,

Neither sweet, nor bitter, am I,

A devoted of God, am I,

For I am sorrowful, that is why I moan.

They felled my trunk and carved my branches,

Every piece of mine to be remade,

Yet, this commandment came from God,

For I've troubles, I moan.

Yunus, he who comes and finds no joy here,

His expectations never to be met,

As none can remain in this fleeting world,

For I've troubles, I moan.

Dervish Yunus,

Tears shed sin,

I'm in love with God, I swear,

I descend for Him.

#trickster-spirit #art & artists #Turkish poetry #Sufi mysticism #Yunus Emre #benim adim dertli dolap #Youtube #Özgür Baba

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muhtesemz · 2 years

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My dearest!

In your last letter:

'My head aches, my heart is dazed!'

You said.

'If they hang you, if I lose you;'

You said;

'I cannot live!'

You'll live my dear,

My memory will vanish like dark smoke in the wind;

You'll live, red-haired sister of my heart.

The grief of death

Only lasts for about a year

In the twentieth century.

- Nazim Hikmet

#turkish poetry

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apocellipse · 1 year

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And one day, if a wild flower feeds from this piece of soil and blossoms above its body, definitely there will be two flowers: one is you one is me.

— Nâzım Hikmet

#i went to the key west aids memorial and it destroyed me a little bit #wip: what’s left #nazim hikmet #turkish poetry

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aestaswh · 1 year

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#literature #turkish literature #poem #turkish #turkish poetry #mine söğüt #başkalarının tanrısı

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officialbillyhoehargrove · 11 months

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Turkish poetry just hits different

En güzel deniz :

henüz gidilmemiş olanıdır.

En güzel çocuk:

henüz büyümedi.

En güzel günlerimiz:

henüz yaşamadıklarımız.

Ve sana söylemek istediğim en güzel söz: henüz söylememiş olduğum sözdür

#poetry #turkish poetry #nazım hikmet #nazim hikmet #şiirsokakta

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f0ght4fre3dom · 2 years

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Sahi sarkıntılığa girer mi acaba ayrılırken gözlerimin sana sulanması

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