Jane Icin (For Jane - In Turkish)
cimen altinda gecen 225 gunden sonra benden daha cok sey biliyor olmalisin.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Related quotes
Bes Dakika Bekle Git
Sen istinyede bekle ben buradaym
imde kpek gibi havlayan yalnzlm
nk ben buradaym karanlktaym
Belki gelmem gelemem be dakika bekle git
nk elimi kestim beni kan tutuyor
arabm btn eki suyum souk
Yanmda olmadn m seni daha bir seviyorum
Belki gelmem gelemem be dakika bekle git
Yzn slatmadan alayabilir misin
Yar geceden sonra telefon ettin mi hi
Karanlk adamlar hviyetini sordu mu
Ben senin olmadn aryorum
Belki gelmem gelemem be dakika bekle git
Bana ait ne varsa seni korkutuyor
Sana ait ne varsa hibiri benim deil
Belki lmek hakkm kullanyorum
Belki gelmem gelemem be dakika bekle git
song performed by by Yasar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gina
Gina'ya yazmıyorum aylardır
Eski günlerin hatrına demişti Rafael
Hiç olmazsa eski günlerin
Kaç kalem eskitti bu dil, kim bilir?
Tüketti mürekkep duygusal hokkamı
Yazamadım
Kafaları çekip Franco'nun barında
Şiirden, sanattan laflardık,
Music box'ta Eagles, sonra Ajda
Yakıp geçmemişti henüz
Genç kızdı iri gözlü Gina
Yıllar sonra o büyüdü
Ben küçülmeye başladım
Saçlarımda, yüzümde
Zaman değil, cesaretim olmadı söylemeye
Kaç kez kaldık başbaşa, ama anlamalıydı
Anlamalıydı her kaçırdığımda
Kalçalarına endeksli gözlerimdeki utancı
Şimdi pişman mıyım? Bilmem
Evlendiği gün, ağlamıştım gizlice
Mutsuz olur diye
Teselliydi alın çizgilerim
Roma sokaklarından yalpalaya yalpalaya
Yürüdüm Vatikan'a zom
Katedral duvarlarını dönüştürmek için ağlamaya
Bir el dokundu omzuma dostça,
Gam çekiyordu hıçkırıkları Rafael'in
Döndüm başladığım yere
Queens'deki kümese
Yarım kalan romanımda
Yüzüme bakmadı aksiliğimden
Kırıp attım daktilomu çöpe
Aylar sonra,
Yağmurlu bir gece çalındı kapım,
Yoğun bakımda, kocası dövmüş dedi Albert
Zaman benim, ben it'in peşinde
Olgunlaştı öfke dolu dizeler kaderimde
Ve, pis bir pansiyonda buldum
Gözümü kırpmadım alnından vurdum
O nedenle yazmıyorum Gina
Zaman uzun, parmaklıklar ardında...
Vaha
Muzaffer Akin
poem by Muzaffer Akin
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That Night Was Longer Than My Breath
I threw the questions down the streams
From the pale apple of the Moon’s eye
I tore the sights of the world
With the bare boughs of my own fingers
I dived into the breathing of hours
There was with me the treetop of mist beating
Carried the moonlight bough glow
Across the woods I whispered the cold
Hidden within the gorges of the world
Down the abyss of my own lips
Pushed down
That night was longer than my breath
And when the dawn sweated over my brow
Hints cracking alongside my hair
Could not patchwork the morning smile
Ta noć mi je bila duža od daha
Niz potoke pitanja bacih
Iz bliede zjene Mjeseč evog oka
Potrgah prizore svijeta
Sa golim granjem rođ enih prstiju
Uronih u disanje sati
Samnom je kucala krošnja od magle
Na granama ponijela mjeseč ast sjaj
Po šumama studen prošaptah
U vrleti svijeta skrivena
Niz obronke rođ enih usana
Survana
Ta noć mi je bila duža od daha
A kad mi se svitanju orosilo č elo
Sa kosom dok su mi pucale i slutnje
Nisam znala jutru da zakrpim osmjeh
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Kroz vene ko uz konope svemira
Ti vereš se bez daha sav od svoga cilja
Puštaš riječ i u bezdomni šapat
Raskuć no piješ kišu doma svog
Piješ i pjevaš ravno ka srcu
Piješ padaš pjevaš
Pi-pa-po pi-pa-po
Ravno ka srcu
Piješ ustaješ pjevaš
Pij-usta-pjev pij-usta-pjev
Ravno ka srcu
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hod
Hodi tmina čari tmurne
Daha presječenog
Tu je jutrom zora gurne
Od sna nerečenog
Hodi podne nebu sunca
Noći gaze svijetom
Sve pepelno sebe bunca
Sebe zove prvim letom
Hodi čovjek šume guste
Zgazile ga vode
Gdje ga tope suze puste
Tu ga tuge hode
Hodi ptica sinja mora
Hodi nebo oblak tmast
Hodi tmasto do izvora
Da utopi hoda vlast
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Dreamt of in a thought (Nafaka)
we are all made of words
fragile sewing
we are all made of stars
shiny sewing
we are all made of stone
solid endlessly
we are all made
of a grass leave
seen by the matter
we are all made of breath
endlessly breathing
we are all made of waiting
dreamt of in a thought
dreamt of in a thought
dreamt of in a thought
od rijeci smo svi
sasiveni krhko
od zvijezda smo svi
sjajem obrubjeni
od kamena smo svi
cvrstinom u nedogled
od travke smo svi
sagledani u tvar
od daha smo svi
disanjem u nedogled
od cekanja smo svi
mislju odsanjani
mislju odsanjani
mislju odsanjani
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Story Of Seven Sages-Prica O Sedam Mudraca
millions of breathings in an anxious breath
seven sages were given
seven drops of waiting
seven drops of hope
seven sages were given
three warm kisses
three gentle touches
seven sages were given
and one though only in endless admiration
Inexpressibility fingers sculptured life
mirijade disanja u tjeskobi daha
sedmorici mudraca neko je dao
sedam kapi čekanja
sedam kapi nadanja
sedmorici mudraca neko je dao
tri topla poljupca
tri meka dodira
sedmorici mudraca neko je dao
i samo jednu misao u beskraju divljenja
sedmorici mudraca neko je da
Život je izvajan prstima Neizrecivosti
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This World Is Not Conclusion, By Emily Dickinson
This world is not a matter
A dead transition from an earth into a breath
From a breath into an earth
This world unmeasured by an eye
Is neither a view through a magnifying glass
Nor winking at sense
This world is not a game
Of a small and big intelligence
This world a strange link
Despite the chains
Won't go into a circle
Ovaj svijet nije tvar
Mrtvi prelazak iz zemlje u dah
Iz daha u zenlju
Ovaj svijet okom nesagledan
Nije pogled kroz uvecano staklo
Ni namigivanje smislu
Ovaj svijet nije igra
Male i velike pameti
Ovaj svijet karika cudna
Lancima u inat
Nece u krug
1996.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Face Of Pain/Lice Bola
Your face made of а flower
Leaning on a fragile petal
It’s calling in a voice of solitude
The root thirst for shining
Your breathing in faded leaves
Trodden broken
Mere branches of breath
You’re floating with the clouds
Like a pain buried below deception
Your hands in twilight
A shattered embrace
A deflowered touch
Your cheek
A scar
Tvoje lice od cvijeta
Na krhku peteljku oslonjeno
Zove glasom osame
Korijen žedan sjaja
Tvoje disanje u svelom lišć u
Ogaženo lomljivo
Tek granč ica daha
Plutala si oblakom
Ko bol sahranjen pod obmanom
Tvoje ruke u sumraku
Slomljen zagrljaj
Obešč ašć eni dodir
Tvoj obraz
Ožiljak
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Kad kesten dvaput procvjeta
Oči vične čekanju u rascvaloj vodi
Uminuo privid u snazi talasa
Na dlanu mi sjever jutro mu hodi
Zvukom se u srcu praporac bjelasa
Oči vične gledanju promrzloga svijeta
Kad kesten dvaput procvjeta
Ruke vične lutanju u dozrele tmine
Pred kapijom jednom premrle od straha
Što u šaci drže usudom se vine
U planine sniježne zaleđenog daha
Ruke vične svijanju suludoga spleta
Kad kesten dvaput procvjeta
U kosu se spusti pupoljasta mrena
Gine snagom vida od dodira trena
Kose vične svijanju osijedjelog svijeta
Kad kesten dvaput procvjeta
1997.
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Tadaka
Samudaya janapad katha bhabibasile
tumara khola hata nirtesha karuchhi mo adaku
sandeha nahi, thik thik kari chaliba puni
ethakara sabu karmakarmani.
Mu pumi athi thia
aithu utari nebaku punu tumaku.. agaku.
Mu jane khanda pajei na rakhile
pasteibaku padiba pare
daha daha ninare luhaku tatei
garama rakhibaku heba natakara sesa jae.
A natakara sesha kouthi
Mu ta kebala gotae dala a natakara
chera jai rahichhi sata samudra bhitare
cheraku na upadibajae
tume kana swastire niswasa mari pariba.
2
Satyaku aaghata karu karu
satyatara pramana paili jetebele
Mati aakasha aaskasa mati
Pabana Aani aalua bhitare
Phenti hoigale surya chandra
Tara graha nashkra jete jouthi dhile
samaste akasangare mu bari hoi padili
Madhyannara andhara Bhali
Kanla surlokara sandhyare tumasamnare!
Kahapain kahara srusti
Mo pain tumara na tu pain mora
Kahara gurutwa kete mapiba kie
kouthire?
Desa jatira hita pain phul thikra
Pharak janiba pain ethiki mora
Aasiba, Aau tumara bi.
Sabu jani bijhi tume murki hasa deuchha
mote dekhi dekhi ki janibe rushi
Tuma mo bhitere chalithiba
a lila khela, a hasa khusi aaharnishi.
Khali gyana khali dyana nuhe jibana
gyana dhyanare karma na misile
nuhen sapurna.
Tenu tume mote padheichha
risimininku kriyasila kareibaku
tenu tum mate padheichha
utha utha kahi debaku rusimuniku
kichhi kara, jouthire satya santira
rakhya heba, Dyan dhara tapasya
Aahuri tibra heba
Mati uthiba urdhwaru urthwaku
Aahuri urdhwaku.
3
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Louis Aragon'la Telepati
Duyuyorum sesini Aragon
Bağırma lütfen!
Biliyorum
Tahta at'lardan inmeliyim artık
Asıp burjuva takıntılarımı
Çırılçıplak çarmıha
Kesmeliyim Mona Lisa'da
Çıkan bıyığı
Da Vinci uyanmadan
Üç memeli kadın resimleri
Çizemiyorum Aragon
Acıtıyor dudağımı her ısırışta
Teresa'nın memelerindeki yangın
Ne zaman kalçalarında gezinse ellerim
küf kokuyor
Üşüyor tuvalimdeki
Kadın
Sürrealist bir şiir yazmak istiyorum
Kazınsın öldüğümde mezar taşıma
Son dizeleri
Ve
Solurken azabı
Dadaist meftalar ayakucumda
Sultan-ı yegah'ı fısıldasın karıncalar
Picasso'ya akapella
Benden
Çekiliyor
Gözlerimdeki simetri
Katlanamıyorum Aragon
Olasılıklar olabildiğince sert
Ve keskin
Büyük mastürbasyoncu gibi
Aforoz'un eşiğinde sanki
Kırmızı çizgilerim
Ki
Son akşam yemeği'ne paha biçilmezken
Müze lokantasında
Gerçeküstücülük hayal olmamalı
Dar beyinlere vurup kazmayı
Sürrealist metrolar açmalı
Neo-estetik steplerinde insanlığın
Haksızmı yım?
Birşey söyle Aragon
Ya da şiire son dizeyi
Ölümsüz kalemin yazsın…
poem by Muzaffer Akin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mit o postanku zla
I sotona rece:
'Neka bude laž! '
I bi laž.
Skrila se u kamenju
Pa sa visina sipa.
I sotona rece:
'Nek licemjerja bude! '
I bi licemjerje.
Skrilo se u rijecima
I ceka da progovori.
Pokrilo se paucinom
I pauke hrani.
Od samog sebe se skrilo.
I sotona rece:
'Nek otrova bude! '
I otrova bi.
Šejtani ga iz olujnog daha
Vitlajuc macem prosuli.
Nataložio se na zemlji
I njenim tokovima tece.
Skrio se u krvi.
I sotona rece:
'Da bude mržnja! '
I bi mržnja.
Prštala na sve strane
Kao krv koja ne može da se zgruša.
Šapama trigova hodala
Pa se i ona pod mahovinom
Na sjeveru lednom skrila.
I sotona rece:
'Neka bude covjek! '
I bi covjeka.
U laži i licemjerju se skrio
Otrovom ga mržnja ko mlijekom dojila.
Pirat se skrio u jedra umotan.
I bi covjeka
U zvijerima se skrio.
I sotona tece:
'Da misli da me nema! '
Ali tako ne bi
Bješe mu laž u pocetku rijeci.
Napisano 1989. rekonstruisano 2012-02-06.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We made them dance
This is how I made you
I took the fibres of black
Spread the twinkling of my heart
Across your body
To make the most beautiful night in the world
I spinned it round and round
Made it dance the river dance
Made it dance the morning dance
Made it dance the evening dance
I made it dance
This is how you made me
You took the fibres of red
Spread the beating of your blood
Across my body
To make the most beautiful love in the world
You spinned it round and round
Made it dance the dance of your seed
Made it dance the dance of your touch
Made it dance the dance of your breath
You made it dance
That's why
The eagle was flying
The sea was foaming
The ground was singing
Children were laughing
Fires were burning
Across the hearths
We made them dance
Ovako sam te stvorila
Uzeh tkanice crnog
I prosuh treptaje svog srca niz tvoje tijelo
Da stvorim najljepšu noc ovoga svijeta
Zavrtjeh je ukrug ukrug
Da pleše ples rijeke
Da pleše ples jutra
Da pleše ples veceri
Da pleše
Ovako si me stvorio
Uze tkanice crvenog
Prosu otkucaj svoje krvi niz moje tijelo
Da stvoriš najljepšu ljubav ovoga svijeta
Zavrtio je ukrug ukrug
Da pleše ples tvog sjemena
Da pleše ples tvog dodira
Da pleše ples tvog daha
Da pleše
I zato je
Orao letio
More se pjenilo
Zemlja je pjevala
Djeca se smijala
I vatre ognjištem gorjele
Oni su plesali zbog nas
2010. (We made them dance)
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When you turn the other page of a cheek/Kad okreces drugu stranicu obraza
When you turn the other page of a cheek
A slap of morn written abyss down your neck
A glove that you lift right from the floor
To throw it into the face of the tree swallowers
That keep growing faster than the boughs
Up to the sky lid in the cauldron of each word
Does it ever come to your mind
What it is there that bursts out in a dream
Do you then think of streets those winding snakes
With their tongue dipped into the poison paths
The buses that turn questionless to a wheel
Insanity spinning both Alladin and the lamp
A sign post in the dark
Do you then think of the houses windows and doors
And heart beats facing the gate of the entrance
As if it was the first time to come into a human
Not knowing whether the host was inside
Do you then think those thoughts from the threshold of pain
Making way to earth mother dust and death
To rest all your thoughts at the end of the road
When the earth bursts out and leaves you with no breath
Kad okreceš drugu stranicu obraza
šamar jutra ispisan brazdama do vrata
rukavicu koju podižeš sa poda
i bacaš u lice gutacima drveca
što rastu brže od granja
do poklopca neba u kotlu svake rijeci
pomisliš li nekad šta puca u snu
misliš li tad na ulice krivudave zmije
s jezikom umocenim u otrov puta
autobuse pretocene u tocak bez pitanja
što bezumno okrece Aladina i lampu
putokaz u mraku
misliš li tad na kuce prozore i vrata
na lupanje srca pred kapijom na ulaz
kao da prvi put ulaziš u covjeka
a ne znaš da li je domacin unutra
misliš li misli sa praga bola
što put krce zemlji majci od praha
da na kraju puta odmoriš sve misli
kada zemlja pukne i kad ostaneš bez daha
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Year Clock
We zot bezide the leafy wall,
Upon the bench at evenfall,
While aunt led off our minds wrom ceare
Wi' veairy teales, I can't tell where,
An' vound us woone among her stock
O' feables, o' the gert Year-clock.
His feace wer blue's the zummer skies,
An' wide's the zight o'looken eyes,
For hands, a zun wi' glowen feace,
An' pealer moon wi' swifter peace,
Did wheel by stars o' twinklen light,
By bright-wall'd day, an' dark-treed night;
An' down upon the high-sky'd land,
A'reachen wide, on either hand,
Wer hill an' dell, wi' win'-sway'd trees,
An' lights a'zweepen over seas,
An' gleamen cliffs, an' bright-wall'd tow'rs,
Wi' sheades a-marken on the hours;
An' as the feace, a-rollen round,
Brought comely sheapes along the ground,
The Spring did come in winsome steate
Below a glowen rainbow geate;
An' fan wi' air a-blowen weak,
Her glossy heair, an' rwosy cheak,
As she did shed vrom open hand,
The leapen zeed on vurrow'd land;
The while the rook, wi' heasty flight,
A-floaten in the glowen light,
Did bear avore her glossy breast
A stick to build her lofty nest,
An' strong-limbed Tweil, wi' steady hands,
Did guide along the vallow lands
The heavy zull, wi' bright-shear'd beam,
Avore the weary oxen-team.
Wi' Spring a-gone there come behind
Sweet Zummer, jay on ev'ry mind,
Wi' feace a-beamen to beguile
Our weary souls ov ev'ry tweil,
While birds did warble in the dell,
In softest air o' sweetest smell;
An' she, so winsome-feair did vwold
Her comely limbs in green an' goold,
An' wear a rwosy wreath, wi' studs
O' berries green, an' new-born buds,
A-fring'd in colours vier-bright,
Wi' sheapes o'buttervlies in flight.
When Summer went, the next ov all
Did come the sheape o' brown-feac'd Fall,
A-smile in a comely gown
O'green, a-shot wi' yollow-brown,
A-border'd wi' a goolden stripe
O'fringe, a-meade o' corn-ears ripe,
An' up agean her comely zide,
Upon her rounded earm, did ride
A pretty basket, all a-twin'd
O' slender stems wi' leaves an' rind,
A-vill'd wi' fruit the trees did shed,
All ripe, in purple, goold an' red;
An' busy Leabor there did come
A-zingen zongs ov harvest hwome,
An' red-ear'd dogs did briskly run
Roun' cheervul Leisure, wi' his gun,
Or stan' an' mark, wi' stedvast zight,
The speckled pa'tridge rise in flight.
An' next agean to mild-feac'd Fall
Did come peale Winter, last ov all,
A-benden down, in thoughtvul mood,
Her head 'ithin a snow-white hood,
A-deck'd wi' icy-jewels bright,
An' cwold as twinklen stars o' night;
An' there were weary Leabor, slack
O' veet to keep her vrozen track,
A-looken off, wi' wistful eyes,
To reefs o'smoke, that there did rise
A-melten to the peale-feac'd zun,
Above the houses' lofty tun.
An' there the gert Year-clock did goo
By day an' night, vor ever true,
Wi' mighty wheels a-rollen round
'Ithout a beat, 'ithout a sound.
poem by William Barnes
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