HASAN HUSEYIN 
(1927-1984)

DICE

It's bad
things are in a bad way
things are in a very bad way
things are really bad

It's either here or there
it's either this way or that way
either today or tomorrow
either in the evening or in the morning

Things are positively in a bad way
things look very bad
yes things look bad
bad

No, it can't be said to be bad
There is always this way or the other way
or vice versa
If it happens this way ... it won't be so bad
if it happens that way it'll be good
if it happens like I said it'll be super

Good good
Things are sitting pretty
very very pretty
Really things couldn't be better



FOUL WEATHER FRIEND

I know poetry
is not water in the flask
bread in the bag
bullet in the belt.

Even so it can uphold
those without water in their canteen
without bread in their bag
without bullets in their belt.

I know this is not
a thing to be done with poetry and song.
It is not the cooing of the dove
that ripens the pomegranate on its branch
the crops in their fields

Even so poetry's task in a struggle
is to shine
like a knife between
clenched teeth

Blindness everywhere
not a single light
The heart is a wounded falcon.
spiralling in the air

Perhaps it is a poem
perhaps it is the crumb of a poem
that knocks at our door in the hopeless dark
that sounds our heart
that bends over our wound
that dispels our fear.

And from the hills opposite
a clarion's resounding call

Translated by Feyyaz Kayacan Fergar