Three poems translated
"Pigeonka" & "On Living" & "If You Go To Prison"
“Pigeonka”
So once again we are together with your neck, one of your reputable spots— This, the longest neck of yours—to endure or not to lose hope— Inside a tram which leads us from Laleli to the world— How come all of a sudden you touch my heart, But somehow as soon as you do, Making love comes into force once again, On every piece of land, Africa included. You know how to think intellectually, thank you very much. As much as you know how to lie in bed, If it’s up to dear Lord, sleeping with you is a sin, but I don’t understand, Like as if it’s pointless for your hair to grow this long, I haven't seen as vibrant a hair like this, never in my life, Separate hearts beating inside each one of its strands, For every piece of land, Africa included. You have a certain aura, that’s what grips me in fact, Breathing becomes yet more valuable with it, Right for being hungry in the mornings— Pretty for winning the day, and saving it— Pretty like the names of many flowers That blooms with the most famous reds, On every piece of land, Africa included. We think of verses together, some good some bad, Your neck, I’m telling you, your neck, no one can appreciate as much as I do— As if we were to say “one more line, everything is going to be fine”— We can’t even take two steps as they hold us, So they catch us one more time, and shoot us, They line us up against the wall anyway, from morning till night, On every piece of land, Africa included. Here is the perfect time to mention your courage now, When you were singing the song for freedom in the crowded streets, Courage like a padishah, that no other alluring woman has that, I remember the way you holding the glass— Evenings in the tavern Where the real poverty starts afterwards, On every piece of land, Africa not excluded.
“On Living”
I. Living is no joking matter. You must live with great seriousness, Like a squirrel, for example. That is, without expecting anything beyond living. That is, all your concern is to be with living. Living you will take seriously. That is, to such a degree, in such a way— With your arms tied behind you, And your back against the wall, You will be able to die— Even for people you haven’t yet known, Even when nobody compelled you, Even when you know life is the most beautiful, The most real thing that ever is. I mean, so grave you will be about living, Even when you are seventy, you will plant olive trees, Not so that your children will have them either!— II. Let’s say, we have some dire illness, Requiring surgery. That is, it is possible we won’t come through it. Even though it’s impossible to not grieve at the prospect Of an early departure, We will still laugh at the jokes that are being told, And we will still look out from the window to see if it’s raining, And wait with impatience for the latest news to arrive. Let’s say, because of a cause worthy of to be fought, We are in the frontlines. In the first day, during the first assault, To fall face-first in the dust is possible. Grudgingly we will know this, But still bewildered be curious For the outcome of a war That will perhaps take years to end. III. This world will cool down in time— One star among all the stars— Indeed, a small one, in comparison, Just a trace on blue velvet— But it still is huge for us. There will come a day when the world will be death-cold. Like some giant iceberg— Like some empty nut—and will forever roll in a measureless pitch black. And all this will be suffered aforehand— And all of this will make you crestfallen— Yet just in equal measure you will love the earth, In order for you to say: “I have lived” with justice.
“If You Go To Prison”
If, instead of being hanged, you are thrown into prison, Because you did not kill what you hoped from the world, From your country, or from your fellow man—if you do time, Twenty, or twenty-five years, other than the time You are going to do more later, you will not say: “Better it would have been to hang, like some flag, at the end of a rope!” You will dig in your heels, and live. It may not be happiness from now on, but: It is your solemn duty, it is your debt of honor— To spite the enemy, to live one more day. Look at yourself as you shave, And forget how old you are, Protect yourself from fleas and Protect yourself from springtime evenings. Never miss out on hearty laughter. Who knows? The woman you love May stop loving you; don’t say: “It’s no big deal,” Since it comes like the breaking of a budding green branch For a man behind bars. Thinking of roses and gardens is bad, Thinking of the mountains and the seas is good. I recommend reading and writing without rest: I mean, it’s not that you can’t do twenty, Or twenty-five years, or even more: YOU CAN! As long as it doesn’t unluster The heart that beats inside your chest.