HUSEYIN FERHAD
(1954)
MY LOVER IS A STEPPE WOLF
(The Birth of Poetry)
Poetry is a leaf of grass
I a drover.The breath of darkness is Poetry
the sound of a bat.A star sleeps in my heart
it cries when it awakens
drops of resin dripping from her
eyelashes
alight.Poetry is a navy blue sky
I a black partridge.The color of words I cannot know
the color of my tongue.My lover is a swan
at the lakeside
she coos
and I am consumed with jealousy.The blossoming of rye is Poetry
the revolt of ants.The color of my face I cannot know
the color of my tongue.My lover is a steppe wolf
I a roe deer
mountain ranges come after me
when she howls.The whisper of life is Poetry
the mouming of death.Translated by Ilknur Egel
TO THOSE VENTURING TO WRITE THE HISTORY OF POETRY AND OF THE HEART
Leaning against the banisters a woman is singing
in a strange language and acceleration I cannot fathom.Up the desalote slopes dry leaves are being hurled
suddenly dawn is embracing the city walls.Is it the morning chill or the spring that hurts my inside so
wherefrom comes this meaningless paln under my breast?Heartbroken, absent-minded like a muezzin climbing up the minaret
I am walking with the late sorrow of the midnight hours.Ah, where is the harbor of love with its sky filled with seagulls
where is the dexterous god who has adopted my youth?A woman is singing collecting the wind
pressing her forehead unawares on my refugee loneliness.The streets are desolate the whole district is abandoned;
With its monk-like face uneasiness has descended upon the houses.Saints are rushing up the stairs of the old monastery,
in the courtyard I hear its copper bell rolling.A star is gliding onto the horizon my eyelashes are becoming entangled
with the ashes of the beam smearing my temples.Chants are reverberating in my mind, players being said; divine truth
is driving its dagger into my heart with the vindication of believers.A woman is singing with her maimed voice, I am engraving
the woman into my voice in Turkish, in Persian, in Arabic.If heaven is nothing but the balcony of books
here must be a mystery just like me in its ocean.The rocks are rolling, daylilies are growing clamorously;
a cricket is falling before me with its lyre on its shoulder.Suddenly it starts raining, organ angels fly about;
love is touching my hands an omenous murder!The water is becoming light gradually, the holy fire is dying out;
grief is covering the day with an imam's robe.With faith and longing is a woman singing
the strings of her moaning violin are breaking one by one.The roads are getting blurred, icon birds are growing plump,
with dew drops the marble sidewalks are becoming steamy.The curtains are drawn, the doors bolted, the garden walls demolished,
the inhaling of the cistern in the nursery-garden can be heard.I am walking along the river a whistle on my lips,
as if my destiny is calling to me in its cooing voice.Is Christ resurrecting? or is Golgotha collapsing in that direction;
suddenly all the candles of my heavenly altar are going out!A woman is singing leaning on the Milky Way
with widow's joy and heartbroken love.The moon is rising, the fallen towers of hope are rising;
the borders of pain are tuming into mine fields.Victory is turning into a pink cloud, it is stooping to lick the face
of supreme patience forsaken on lovers' squares.A woman is singing collecting the wind
from windy precipices leaning her forehead on my solitude.It is truly a shame to cry when life is beaming thanks to those
venturing to write the history of their poetry and their hearts!1993
Translated by Suat Karantay
Hüseyin Ferhad (1954, Hatay) went to elementary through high school in his hometown of Hassa. He graduated from the Department of Mathematics at the Ankara Gazi Institute of Education. He has worked as a radio programmer and as a teacher and currently owns a business in Adana. His first poems were published in 1978 in the journal Sanat Emeği. His poems were also published in journals such as Türk Dili, Somut, Yazko Edebiyat, Adam Sanat and Varlık. He drew attention at first with his poems inspired by a Mediterranean “emotionality,” and later with those inspired by mythology and the history of Turks. Shaman-like in approach, his poems span a wide timeframe and a geography that reaches from the old history of Central Asia all the way to our day. His books of poetry: Deniz Çobanları/Shepherds of the Sea (1982), Ve Yürüdük Gecenin Ateşleri İçinden/And We Walked Through the Fires of the Night (1983), Söyle Gölgen de Gitsin/Tell Your Shadow To Leave Too (1993), Hayal Ülkesinin Keşfi/Discovery of the Land of Dreams (1995) and Kılıç İpekte Sınanır/Sword is Tested on Silk (Collected Poems (2000).