Friend, you're not the guilty one
The guilty ones are the evenings
See how they drag you down into this obscurity...
Trouble not yourself
Everyday's "Love's Labour Lost"
Vanishes away
Your eyes have learned
The meaning of love anyway
Learn how not to remember
Every point of suffering.

Remember not those eyes, those eyes
Have gone and they've enticed you into smoky cafés
Don't go and believe
your eyes, they're just not
as sharp as they used to be
Friend, because you aren't the guilty one,
The guilty ones are hopes
Leaving you to the shadows.

So what's the use of fussing
If they've never understood
The poems your own baggy eyes
Have forgotten? ...

You're alone in an unknown beyond
Your eyes are alone as well ...
You're not guilty, friend
The guilty ones are hopes
Leaving you alone in darkness.

(Translated from Turkish to French by Yakup Yurt, followed by English translation by Richard Vallance)

The light has not yet been lit
on the ambiance of friendship.
The sun does not stop rising
on errors
at its appointed hour.
Writings have not transformed
the harshness of insensibility.
Provocations have been delivered
and one has been the spectator
like a bull fighter...
The songs of peace
have not been taken
one step further.
The sorrows
were profound
and elusive,
the period stamped
on black pages
and into bloody cells.
Presenting themselves
as innocent methods,
they stirred up feelings
among the poor.
Imbeciles
have big feet.
Suffering caused by famine
was to be endured.
Paintings
the written word
designs
were not to be understood
in spite of the suffering
and cries
dismantling the signs.

Magnanville – 19.03.2001
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick - 2004

Do not stay in front of my troubles
And rattle my private feelings
Hereafter, do not touch my ideas
Do not revive my memories
Leave me to myself
Go now...
Come back later!

Me, I depend on my loneliness...
I do not let other people trample
My love so easily
Leave me to myself
Go now...
Come back later!

Me, I am accustomed to the sky's irony
It is of no importance
That I am discovered in my sleep...
I climb my trees myself
I water my flowers myself
Leave me to myself
Go now...
Come back later!

Do not stay in front of my troubles
And rattle my private feelings
Hereafter, do not touch my ideas
Do not revive my memories
Leave me to myself
Go now...
Come back later!

Ankara, le 06.06.1979
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse by Joneve McCormick, 22.02.2006