******OUR POETRY ARCHIVE******: March 2025

Saturday, March 1, 2025

MARCH 2025 V-10 N-12 ISSUE NO. 120

METIN TURAN INTERVIEW

NILAVRONILL TALKING WITH

POET OF THE MONTH

METIN TURAN

MARCH 2025

NILAVRONILL: Why do literature and poetry in particular interest you so much? Please give us some idea about your own perception of literature or poetry in general.

METIN TURAN: I was born in the second half of the twentieth century (1966). My childhood was spent in a large family environment. This family was not just made up of my parents and siblings. My father was a village teacher, and this village was our own, in a sense. Nearly everyone nearby was a part of this family. I could easily go to people who were not from my immediate family, with a different surname, stay there, ask for bread or water if I was hungry, and they would provide it to me. Even in that village, with no phone to communicate, I would occasionally stay in one of those houses I visited instead of returning home for the evening. This did not cause panic for my family, as they felt reassured with the sense that I was “certainly at someone’s house.” The feeling of “home” is not just a place, but a sense of security. This is a basic emotion we have lost in this modern age. Our “homes” were not places that turned into insecure living spaces with steel doors, security guards outside, or satellite-monitored systems. There were people there whom we called Aunt Ayşe, Uncle Mehmet, Uncle Ali, and Sister Hatice. All of them were part of our family. Then, when I was only 12 years old, I migrated to one of Turkey’s largest cities, Ankara. The city was a hundred thousand times more crowded than the village I was born and raised in. I was also alone. I had left my parents and siblings behind in our village. Among those hundreds of thousands of people, literature and poetry alone kept me afloat. Literature and poetry, like many other art forms, are places where we find ourselves. Art is the place where we find ourselves as much as we can express. Apart from basic needs like food, clothing, shelter, and other necessities, art is the most fundamental anchor to life. Since childhood, my sensitivity and the world of literature that I have consciously built have contributed to seeing literature as a plane of existence. In this century, amid technology and fast-paced lifestyles, my deep attraction to poetry and literature comes from the profound awareness they offer about being human. A poem or a literary text, by creating a bridge independent of time and space, carries the feelings and thoughts of different eras and different hearts to us. This is one of the reasons I believe literature is the most effective tool for the journey of the human experience. Moreover, literature and poetry provide me with an unlimited space for expression, ranging from social memory to individual emotion. As a folklorist and poet, I believe I have a mission to interpret humanity’s accumulated knowledge through an elegant perspective and to offer a bridge to future generations. At the core of poetry lies beauty, a deep understanding of life; when you transmit these values, you leave a message to the world while creating yourself. For me, literature is not simply an art, but more so a mirror of the human condition. When I write a poem or read a literary text, I feel as if I am part of a larger world. I don’t want to get lost in the labyrinths of the world. I want everything I try to hold on to in life to be encompassing. A simple, yet enriched life. I insist on literature and poetry to create this beauty. I pursue literature and poetry with passion and responsibility because I am searching for that "home" we have lost as humanity.

NILAVRONILL: How do you relate your own self existence with your literary life in one hand, and the time around you, in the other.

METIN TURAN: I see myself as someone who is aware of their literary identity. I have never seen literature as an aesthetic foundation that will fulfill all of our needs. Literature is a fulfilling and satisfying endeavour for a person, but it is not entirely a mirror of life. The chaos, conflict, love, and passion in life, as well as violence, struggle, and deprivation, are all reflected in literature. However, the fact that all these things are reflected in literature does not mean that the novel, the short story, or the poem is a tool for solving problems. What I strive to achieve through writing poetry is to reveal the mysteries of life within the boundaries of poetry. I live with the awareness that we are living in an unsettling, frightening era. This may seem exhausting, but it is a reality I know, and if I can find ways to live with it and overcome it, it makes it necessary for me to do so. My friends and those around me say that I am ambitious, perhaps too ambitious. I myself am aware of this. Though, my intent is not to make money. It is a diligence within the framework of activities I have defined as beautiful for myself. I plant trees, feed cats, dogs, and birds. I try to collect every scrap of trash and every ugly waste that stands out as unnatural to the environment around me. I also want to say this: the "environment" we define as our surroundings has lost its individuality under the watchful eye of a great observer. A good writer, a careful poet, is someone who can create the environment that belongs to us. I try to share more than just my own poems and writings; I also share the works of my friends. I organize events related to this, and as far as my means allow, I try to make these works accessible for others. And undoubtedly, I gain a tremendous intellectual and inner benefit from this. In this regard, with the awareness of my many shortcomings, I see myself as one of the wealthiest people in the world. I am in a vast library, where the stories of thousands of lives are concealed, and this library does not feel jealousy about my discovery of them.

NILAVRONILL: Do you believe creative souls flourish more in turmoil than in peace?

METIN TURAN: Peace is an explorative state, but chaos provokes what has been discovered in peace. Chaos pushes things to the surface. There is a beautiful saying in Turkish: "Water cannot settle unless it is disturbed!" Creativity is the act of calming this disturbed, complicated state of mind, or, from another perspective, stirring it up even more. It is the state of creating a happiness beyond the smile shown in photographs. I am one of those who seek serenity in the midst of vast, chaotic, and endless turmoil. Therefore I write poetry and engage with literature. My concern is not the smile in a photograph, but recreating its happiness.

NILAVRONILL: What about Turkish literature, is it traditionally European? I mean, does it inherit only European literary tradition? Again, geo-politically Turkey connects both Europe and Asia. So traditionally there must be Asian influence also, upon your culture and literature as well. If so, how can a Turkish literary figure like you balance in between both European and Asian literary traditions and heritages?

METIN TURAN: Turkish literature is a literary heritage that has been passed down by word-of-mouth for many centuries. It is quite interesting that a torrent of folk tales, fairy tales, epics, and poems have been narrated and conveyed by folk poets and minstrels using the musical instrument known as the saz (bağlama). These artists have not only shared what they heard, ensuring these stories lived on and remained relevant, but also contributed to their proliferation by recreating them. For example, the epics “Dede Korkut Stories”, which were first transcribed in the late 15th century, focus on the period when Turks first encountered Islam, around the 8th or 9th century. Another example are the “Köroğlu Kol Epics”, which were filled with both poetry and prose, created around the 16th century and based on the character of Köroğlu, a folk poet and minstrel. Turkish literature, especially up until the 18th century, while it carries certain European traits, clearly has an Asian texture. From the 18th century onward, opportunities arose for deeper engagement with Western, particularly French literature, influencing the development of Turkish literature. In fact, until the 19th century, genres like theater and the novel, which were not present in Turkish literature, began to develop with translations from French literature and adaptations by Turkish authors inspired by these works. However, Turkish literature also has a deep connection with Russian literature, which it found culturally closer, drawing on it throughout the 19th and 20th century. This influence can also be attributed to the presence of Turkic-speaking peoples in the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union. In order to better explain this synthesis coming from both the West and the East, I prefer to use the term "Anatolia" rather than a national or ethnic identity. This is because in Anatolia, cultural textures from all periods of history have intertwined, and today, like in the past, a literary richness and cultural fusion have emerged through a combination of influences from both the East and the West. When we look at the works of major figures from 20th-century Turkish literature, such as Nazım Hikmet, Yaşar Kemal, Orhan Veli, Orhan Kemal, Fakir Baykurt, Ahmed Arif, Adalet Ağaoğlu, Gülten Akın, and Orhan Pamuk, we can see this fusion. Both Eastern and Western colors are present, creating an "Anatolian" synthesis. The Turkish people, who easily adapted to migration, travel, and making other geographies their "homeland," enjoy being seen within a European literary and cultural circle, while still preserving the distinct colors of Anatolia. Despite becoming part of a globalized world, they prefer not to be viewed as purely Asian. When viewed from a broader perspective, Turkish literature forms a delicate bridge between East and West. It is not surprising that on one end of this bridge are countries with influences from Eastern civilizations such as India, China, and Persia, and on the other, Renaissance-era Italy, Germany, and France, which are distant from the Islamic cultural sphere that has been home to the Turks for over a thousand years.

NILAVRONILL: Do you believe that all writers are by and large the product of their nationality? And is this an incentive for or an obstacle against becoming a truly international writer?

METIN TURAN: We are members of a great human family. I believe that every individual in literature is a part of this family, contributing to the collective human heritage that spans thousands of years. However, I also believe that one cannot achieve universality without carrying the colors of their own culture, that is, without reflecting the locality and enriching it. Without our own distinct colors and identity, we cannot be seen within the rainbow that encompasses the world. The literature we create with our own unique accumulation can be the reason for enrichment and propagation. A literature that is like everyone else's is no different from what today's digital printers produce—there is no originality or creativity in it. There is only repetition. Good literature does not emerge from mere repetition. In order not to blend into the homogenized crowd, one must be protected from the dangers of conformity. Therefore, we see that writers who are aware of the dynamic elements of their local heritage also play a significant role on the international stage.

NILAVRONILL: Now, if we try to understand the tradition and modernism, do you think literature can play a pivotal role in it? If so, how? Again, how can an individual writer relate himself or herself to the tradition and to modernism?

METIN TURAN: The concept of tradition can be interpreted differently depending on the perspective of each writer. For me, tradition is the richness that emerges from different literary understandings and personalities. To elaborate a bit more, the literary tradition I am part of draws from various sources: on one hand, from Russian poet Pushkin, German poet Goethe, Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore, French poet Mallarmé, and Chilean poet Neruda; and on the other hand, from great Turkish poets, such as Nazım Hikmet, Cahit Külebi, Ahmet Haşim, Gülten Akın, and Enver Gökçe. I believe I am grounded in the accumulation created by all of these different influences. In this sense, it is tradition that creates modernity. Every literary movement and orientation ultimately focuses on tradition as the foundation of its accumulation. Modernism, in my view, is not about dismissing tradition, but about re-engaging with it, offering a new way of interpreting the world beyond the will of the "sacred." In this regard, literature forms one of the most important grounds for such interpretation.

NILAVRONILL: Do you think literary criticism has much to do with the development of a poet and the true understanding of his or her poetry?

METIN TURAN: Criticism matures. The bounds of creativity are limitless, and we can learn the limits of this boundlessness through criticism. Here, I am not referring to a restrictive boundary that limits freedom or creativity. Literary criticism is a serious process of collation, and the critic's objective approach to evaluating a poet contributes to this collation. Criticism significantly contributes to the poet's development and the refinement of their poetry. It is important not to think of criticism solely in the context of the poet or the writer. This artistic space for discussion also nourishes the poetry reader and follower in an aesthetic sense.

NILAVRONILL: Do you think society as a whole is the key factor in shaping you up as a poet, or your poetry altogether?

METIN TURAN: Society has influenced me as a poet. My effort to influence society as a poet stems from this reciprocal interaction. What society gives me, and what society takes from me, form the basis of my poetry, which is also my aesthetic reflex toward society.

NILAVRONILL: Do you think people in general actually bother about literature? Do you think this consumerist world is turning the average man away from serious literature?

METIN TURAN: The consumerist world has turned almost every value into a commodity that is bought and sold. Global capitalism, with its extraordinary resources, uses this to encourage us to consume poetry and literature in a way that is even more intense than our own concerns for them. As a result, the true supporters of literature remain in a very limited circle, so to speak, confined within an aquarium. High-quality literature is being pushed aside, while popular culture is made dominant. Even in the midst of this reality, I have never been pessimistic. When a person loses hope, it means death is drawing nearer.

Every writer, in the face of death, is an element of living, of staying alive. A writer’s consciousness is also the awareness of replacing more than what we consume.

NILAVRONILL: We would like to know the factors and the peoples who have influenced you immensely in the growing phase of your literary life.

METIN TURAN: The most prominent factors in the development of my literary life are rooted in being born into a rich oral culture. The Northeast Anatolia region, in addition to reflecting the historical changes in the Turkish language, has a very rich folk storytelling tradition. Growing up in a region where people from various ethnic backgrounds lived together contributed to my exposure to an unlimited linguistic richness and nourished my understanding of language. Literature, especially poetry, was a common topic among the adults in my family. My paternal grandmother, maternal grandmother, and mother were excellent storytellers. Furthermore, my mother, facing difficult circumstances, made folk songs her refuge, using them to cope with hardships. In homes without electricity and where finding fuel for heating was often a challenge, she fought against scarcity through song. Additionally, under the conditions of that time, my mother had come to my father's village as a bride from a distant district. She could only visit her parents once or twice a year for 10-15 days. She tried to alleviate her longing with the folk songs she sang, often improvising them according to her emotional state. These experiences significantly enriched my perception. On my paternal side, my great-grandfather, Cemal Hoca from Kağızman, was a well-known folk poet in Turkey. Although I never met him, his poems were recited and talked about. Many teachers in my family valued reading literary magazines as an essential part of their educational responsibilities, and therefore, poems from other poets were also read. Alongside oral culture, written culture was dominant in our family, too. I became acquainted with the legendary folk poets who greatly contributed to enriching the Turkish language, such as Yunus Emre, Karacaoğlan, Pir Sultan Abdal, Köroğlu, Dadaloğlu, and Aşık Veysel. I drew inspiration from them. From the outside, I had been born into a geography of unparalleled beauty but abundant deprivation. However, inside, I lived amidst the vibrant and dynamic richness of words and stories. During my childhood, I heard the coarse language of work songs, which did not allow any space for restriction. Though rough, they gave me a sense of how to effectively use words within general speech. Another key influence on my literary nourishment was the radio. From an early age, when I began opening my senses to the outside world, the radio became an indispensable source of entertainment and education. Until the 1980s, our villages had no running electricity and therefore no television. The most vivid information from the outside world came through the radio, and my father, out of a sense of obligation, made it a point to listen to the 7 AM and 7 PM "main news" programs, considering it essential for his state employment. At that time, there was only one radio channel, the state-run station, and it was of very high quality. Later, I learned that notable Turkish literary figures such as Sevgi Soysal and Adalet Ağaoğlu had worked there, preparing programs that influenced Turkish literature.

NILAVRONILL: How would you evaluate your contemporaries and what are your aspirations for or expectation from the younger generation?

METIN TURAN: I deeply respect the efforts of contemporary writers to create richness within their individual worlds and to spread that richness to the world. I also take pride in the fact that the poets and writers of the younger generation are creating literature with great skill. I see this both in Turkish literature and in other literature from the world that I am able to follow. The new generation of writers, moving beyond discussions of the inner self, create literature as a collective richness of the great human family. I find this very meaningful. While not forgetting the reality of environmental pollution, wars, armament, and the increasing presence of chemicals, I believe that literature is the creativity that beautifies us and humanizes us.

NILAVRONILL: Humanity has suffered immensely in the past, and is still suffering around the world. We all know it well. But are you hopeful about our future?

METIN TURAN: I believe that the writer, even in the most pessimistic conditions, is a symbol of aesthetic resilience that instills hope. Our age is a flawed one, hiding the good aspects of what we have accumulated over thousands of years and bringing the ugliness to the forefront. Wars continue. Child deaths, violence against women, and the disruption of ecological balance—these issues will once again be brought to consciousness by writers. Any problem that is not brought to consciousness cannot be solved in a comprehensive way. If humanity continues to repeat its mistakes today, it is because we have not brought these problems into the collective consciousness. When we realize that the world belongs not only to humanity but also to insects, birds, trees, and grass, we will have created a beautiful present and a happy future. I am a fearful person. I write poetry and engage with literature because I am afraid of this savagery. A fearful person is someone who is learning to overcome fear. I am hopeful.

NILAVRONILL: What role can literature in general play to bring a better day for every human being?

METIN TURAN: Literature is a historical accumulation. Because of this, it encompasses the present. A writer who has deeply absorbed historical accumulation and who creates with an awareness that comprehends every aspect of human experience can also activate their intuition effectively. Literature is a wealth of the soul that cannot be bought. It is the richness of being able to see what is before you. Literature is accumulated, much like experience—it is not easily obtained, and it is the most valuable of treasures.

NILAVRONILL: We are almost at the end of the interview. I remain obliged to you for your participation. Now, personally I would like to know your honest opinion about Our Poetry Archive. Since April 2015 we are publishing and archiving contemporary world poetry each and every month. Thank you for sharing your views and spending much time with us.

METIN TURAN: Since 2015, I have found the work you have been doing, which I have been following with great respect, meaningful and important. I have had the opportunity to get to know poets from different countries I was unfamiliar with and to read their poetry. The continuity and regularity of your work is also noteworthy, because what ties a person to a place is not only the curiosity to find what they are searching for but also the awareness of when those things will come to light. In this age, what is truly "surprising" or "miraculous" is not the unknown, but the realization of the known. You, every first of the month, have established a “known”—this archive will be released. And I am happy to ameliorate myself by following this “known” and its curiosity.

***Translated Into English By Aysen Ritzauer

METIN TURAN

Born on January 10, 1966, in the village of Har now called Çallı) in the Kağızman district of Kars, located in the easternmost part of Turkey. Turan attended and completed primary school, though not in the typical sense - he mostly played games at school. At the age of 12 he moved to Ankara, the capital, where he would later pursue higher education, studying in the fields of technical education, health sciences, and economics. His first literary work, a short story, was published in 1982. And since then, has written extensive studies on Turkish and world literature, publishing more than 30 books on poetry, critiques, and compilations. In addition, Turan has participated in numerous international congresses, symposiums, and festivals, some of which he coordinated. His first poetry book, Suları Islatan Mecnun (Mecnun, The One Who Wet the Waters), won first-place poetry awards at the Makedonia Republic Çalıklı Bahar Festival (2001) and the Ruşen Hakkı Poetry Award, and in 2002 from the Anatolian Music Cultures Association. In 2010 Turan received the Troya Folklore Association Pertev Naili Boratav Folk Studies Award. In addition, he participated as a poet and panelist in the 2018 Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang, South Korea, where his speech and two selected poems were translated into more than 30 languages. The complete anthology (from which the selected works originated) was published in 2022, including an audiobook release available in 25 languages named Su Çığlığı (“The Cry of the Water”). Last year (2024), he was awarded the Changwon International Literary Award on grounds of being a poet and critic who successfully embodies and applies thought rooted in the unique human spirit via poetry creation and criticism, as well as for his contributions to peace, nature, and human rights. Among his works are the following poetry collections: Suları Islatan Mecnun (“Mecnun, The One Who Wet the Waters”) 2003, Sokaklar Kentler Ülkeler (Streets, Cities, Countries) 2007, Ağustos Aldı Sırlarımı (“August Took My Secrets”) 2015, Hâl ve Gidiş (“The State of Affairs, Selected Poems”) 2015, Sabırsız Bir Sabah (“An Impatient Morning”) 2021, Lirik Bulut (“The Lyrical Cloud in Turkish and English”) 2024. Turan’s poems have been translated into several languages, including Polish, German, Arabic, Bulgarian, Persian, English, Korean, Macedonian, Romanian, Russian, Uzbek, Ukrainian, and Greek. Currently, Turan acts as the publishing coordinator of the magazine FOLKLOR/EDEBİYAT (“folklore/literature”), covering folklore, anthropology, sociology, history, music, and literature with regular issues being published since 1994. He is also the publishing director of KIBATEK (Cyprus, Balkans, Eurasian, Turkish Literature Institution), which began its activities in 1998, and TURNALAR (“cranes”), an international translation and literary magazine.

***Translated Into English By Aysen Ritzauer

METIN TURAN

In Seoul

We walk as if breathing, quietly in green

Mountain is a long word in Seoul

Once you arrive at Bukhansan, your steps get bigger with water

You can never take your eyes off the river rising above the horizon

So much so that you fly out of sight.

Evening is like pansori, time expands thoroughly

The flame of love spreads into the night, the stairs are vibrant

From tired footsteps

Cherry blossom smells on any balcony you go out.

I've bloomed in so many colours

So many times, I've got lost on my way to Yeouido

I had been soaked in yellow, I bloomed red then.

You smelled the Maehwa on an ice-cream cone.

Translated By Betül Küre

Lifetime

I made all my toys myself

From earth, from stone, from wood, from leaves

We whistled and played under the light.

I slept with cats, puppies, goat kids, sheeps

It's true I sang lullabies to wolf cubs

Knitted nipples from wool to feed them.

I was five years old

Once I threw a stone at a crow pecking at chicks.

I missed it, though.

I got a fever. I was green around the gills, off my food.

I cried for three days, my father told me a story,

I planted seven trees.

I fed the birds with bread

Collected stones from the farms, watered the trees.

I am holding the shadow of my lifetime

Content and blissed.

Each day I ask myself how to start my day:

Have it own way and smile.

Heat up the sun, until it blooms, smile!

Translated By Betül Küre

The Cold Wind

We are guests of an ancient planet, hush thy voice,

Verily, the world is going somewhere, the wind is blowing.

As birds brush against a leaf, their wings unfurl

Ripples spread across the water in circles, lifeless fish scatter around

Stars cast their light, and I shiver with cold

Indeed, a part of me gets lost in the depths of the forest.

I run behind a burdened ship

Learning to swim in the river where my heart goes against the tide towards you

And the clouds are swirling above us

With each touch to your hair, my breeze growing, cities overflow with the crowds

You must have sensed I make my way to you, savoring the flowers in such a way

We are humans of an exhausted Agent

Should we rise, we would fall, the storm can be seen in our eyes.

Like the sea and sand are our looks

The waves are frothy with a resounding hue

You warned of their demise if their voices fade

Protect the paleface from the birds

Time is like cool milk

If your hand touches the streets of your home

Leaves peel off one by one from the trees

Due to the wind ceaselessly descending throughout the day.

For days on end, the bread comes up cold

Salt has gone stale, water has gone wormy, streets tainted by the grime of petroleum

Loneliness has embraced the neighboring cities, as well

Another gong of the clock will disturb the silence

Like gears stretching the limits of working hours

With a painful voice, newsreaders advise watering the flowers

Not salt and seaweed, but diesel and weariness exude from the sailors' talks

I am weary

Finding solace in my own breeze in seclusion

My breath is frozen.

Translated By Betül Küre

METIN TURAN

METIN TURAN: He was born in 1966 in Kağızman (Kars-Turkey). He studied technical education, health and economics. His first tale was published in 1981.Turan attended numerous international scientific and artistic meetings in Germany, Romania, Kazakhstan, Macedonia, Syria, Bulgaria, Moldova, Ukraine, Azerbaijan, TRNC, Russia, Nakhichevan, Italy, South Korea, Poland and Turkey. He concentrated his work in the field of folk literature. In 1995, he was honored with the Turkish Folklore Service Award of Folklore Research Institution. He was the folklorist who won this award at the youngest age so far. Metin Turan is the president of KIBATEK (Cyprus, Balkans, Eurasian Turkish Literatures Institution) and Folklore Researchers Foundation. In 2003, he won the first prize “Çalıkalı Spring Festival Turkish World” (in the Republic of Macedonia) and “2004 Ruşen Hakkı Poetry Award”. His poems were translated into Polish, German, Arabic, Bulgarian, Persian, English, Korean, Macedonian, Romanian, Russian, Kurdish, Armenian, Uzbek, Ukrainian and Greek. In addition, his book “KÖROĞLU” was translated into Albanian and Serbian and published in these countries. In 2005 and 2006 he briefly taught Turkish Literature courses and conferences at Kiev National University and between 2007-2011, he gave lectures in folk literature at Yıldız Technical University/Faculty of Arts and Sciences as an academician. Metin Turan took part in the regulatory committee of "History Foundation (Tarih Vakfı)" and "Pertev Naili Boratav Archive". In 1997-98, he worked in the Ministry of Culture of the Republic of Turkey; Culture and Art Broadcast Advisory Board and Folk Culture Broadcast Advisory Board. Also, he was a member of the editorial board of “Türk Dünyası” magazine. He is the publishing coordinator of FOLKLOR/EDEBİYAT magazine whose contents are folklore, anthropology, sociology, history, music and literature, and has been published since 1994. In addition, he is the publishing director of KIBATEK (Cyprus, Balkans, Eurasian, Turkish Literatures Institution), which started its activities in 1998, and TURNALAR, an international translation and literary magazine.

TAGHRID BOU MERHI

New Light

On a night when the sky lit up with stars,

And the dawn came with a new, great light,

The birth of Christ, a blessed celebration,

And the whole world sings of peace and delight.

Love was born in a pure manger,

Surrounded by lights and love’s embrace,

He came to fill the earth with kindness,

And quench the spirits from the fountain of grace.

His birth is a call for peace and brotherhood,

A bridge between hearts that cannot fall,

It sparks within us a flame of hope,

Cleansing sins and renewing dreams for all.

On this holiday, greetings and joy,

And the whole world is lifted from pain,

We celebrate love and faith,

In unity, forgetting doubts and disdain.

A feast for the world, a joy and cheer,

And in every believer’s heart, a spark of light,

Let us celebrate glory and cherish life,

And remain in Christ’s love for eternity bright.

The Birth Of Christ

On a shining night, the sky lit up

Christ was born in a cave, amidst distance and despair

Mary the Virgin was alone there

Bearing pain in silence, in darkness and cold

The pains of labor, her heart beat with fear

She found no one but herself to calm her on this path

Around her, the friendly animals in the shelter

Spread peace and comforted her loneliness in the dark

Oh Mary, mother of light and radiance

From you, dawn arose, and from you came hope

In the heart of the night, the birth was miraculous

Announcing to the world that peace was coming from afar

In that moment, there was the first sound

The voice of the small child who brought hope

His star shone in the sky like the full moon

Lighting the way for all who seek peace and love

His birth was the beginning of the path

To an era of mercy and peace

In that cave, Mary alone endured

To be the mother of hope, and the earth rejoices each year.

To My Father

My greetings to a memory that perfumes the depths,

And your image paints every path I tread.

You departed, leaving no joys among us,

While the tears of longing flow and overflow.

Oh, the yearning of a heart—how can it find peace after you?

And how can a soul be healed and restored?

I will embrace my agony with your memory,

And the joy of souls shall be penned by my heart.

My greetings to you, my father, with every tear

That sends you love, and makes remembrance bloom.

TAGHRID BOU MERHI

TAGHRID BOU MERHI: She is a multilingual poet, writer, author, essayist, editor, journalist and translator. She has authored 24 books and translated 36 books to date, 105 article to date. She is an active member of various literary and creative platforms. Her writings are part of several national and international magazines, newspapers, journals and anthologies. She is working as an Arabic language teacher for non-native speakers. She is a global advisor for poetry on CCTV Chinese TV and editor and head of the translation department at various literary newspapers and magazine. She was chosen among 50 women from the continent of Asia who had a significant impact on the history of modern literature. She was selected among of 20 Top International journalists from Legacy Crown. She participated in more than 110 foreign anthologies and more than 80 Arabic anthologies, and her literary works have been translated into 48 languages. She has won many awards for her write-ups.

SUMITRA MISHRA

Daggers Drawn

I don’t know how and when

The daggers were drawn

Our love turned to hate

Or when love displaced hate,

Resisting the temptations

To rehearse my love for long

I became dumb and deaf,

While trying to fight back the hate

My daggers turned to stone.

One night,

All lights out

The stage of life

Turned bloody red!

I used all my nerves

Trying to keep the lights burning

My stock candles of smile gradually depleted,

Trying to replenish your craving

My reserve of self-esteem drowned

In the flood of your debunking epithets.

To save you from the arrows,

I used all my shields

In return, I was pelted

With stones from all sides

And fired by missiles.

The dilemma, you couldn’t solve

Nor could I,

We are tuned to the same frequency

Of doubt and dismay

Though you and I know

The tempests of hate and friction

Can never conquer over our truth and love.

Lost Citadel

When the colours of love

From my enamoured soul

Drenched your dessicated heart

Like drops of manna,

Your enchanted heart discovered

The source of the delightful sweetness,

You sprayed rhythms of Venetian amour

In poetic lines, on the notebook of my heart.

But I didn't know extreme sweetness

Causes disease,

And the aroma is ephemeral.

May be, you played fugitive with yourself

Or you loved to play tricks with tender hearts

Often using the dagger of your words,

At times throwing muck on my character

You wounded my dignity, to gratify your ego,

You laughed at the silly streams of my emotions

And ridiculed my jestful joyous raillery.

My fervor fractured like clay idols.

As I lamented

Over the lost citadel of my love

You boasted of your

Previously conquered citadels of glory

Which you tried to possess but could not preserve.

Can I hope to swim

Against time’s tricky swirls

To regain control of my lost citadel

Shattered by the jealous whirls?

Precipice –

I’m hanging on the precipice

Unable to unchain and amble away

Unable to leave the earth

and touch the sky!

I’ve not forgotten

The words of prayer or chants or the aazan

But troubled by the battle between churches,

temples and mosques!

Still I could see the red rose

Amid the bouquet of pale orchids in the hamper

Nodding and swaying, seeking love,

and beckoning hope!

I would like to jump

Into the golden rays of dawn

But my limbs are numb

like a frozen fish!

A blanket of shadow

Clouds my vision fixed on the cross

I can’t see the golden gate

or the rays of divinity!

So I’m standing still

Waiting for your immanence Lord

Hanging on the precipice of faith

darkened by reason!

SUMITRA MISHRA

Dr SUMITRA MISHRA, Retired Professor of English, Former Principal of Government Women’s College, Sambalpur.25 years of experience as Associate NCC officer, Rank: Major. Bilingual writer with 23 published books in Odia and 8 books in English. Associate Editor of a Women magazine Smruti Santwona. Life member of Odisha Lekhika Sansad. Spouse: Professor Gangadhar Mishra, Former Director, Higher Education, Odisha.

STACIA LYNN

In The Land Of One Day

I sit serene,

In the land of one day,

At peace, Your Promises portray

Eden created,

Lost to the darkness displayed

Is not far from grace-

Where the lion sleeps next to the lamb,

N’ upon my lap they lay,

Comforted by the basking Light,

Of our Father, Creator and Lord,

Whose Glory is an unending display.

So, as I sit and ponder,

I’ll spread this grand Good News,

An invitation is sent,

From the One who loves you too.

He is the King,

Who’s coming to restore,

All the beauty from days of old.

Eternal Longing

I long for you in the depths of night

When I open my eyes n you’re not by my side

The longing is deep as the ocean is wide

I long for the day, which separations hides

For the good, not the bad, the yearning shall be

Due to true love, we shall be,

For all eternity

Let Us Not Forget

Movies of old times run through the mind,

Reeling…

Riding bikes, until the streetlights shone.

Overnighters, so we did not feel alone.

First kisses, First loves

Sharing, in whispered laughs n’ childish tones.

Weddings, kids, the reunions grow

Into symphonic chaos, we all came to know.

Then time seems to separate,

What we all appreciate and love

Family and friends become distant,

No water boiling on the stove-

For gatherings, lunch or midday brunch

We whirlpool into this thing called life

Forgetting what’s left behind, times a crunch-

But that is a lie.

The question remains- seek or leave behind?

A voided call or text, Leaving one sad n’ sigh

Let not our priorities become vain

Leaving those behind in pain

Leave the material world in the wake

N’ return to genuine love, that’s not fake.

STACIA LYNN

STACIA LYNN is a Writer, Poet, Developmental and Creative Freelance copy editor, and writer. Stacia is also honored to be a Board member of Our Poetry Archive. She is also the Published Author of Escape Down the Roman Road, A Poetic Journey Through Life, The Enchantment, and is also published in many Poetry Anthologies worldwide, including Atunis Galaxy’s 2018 Anthology of Contemporary World Poetry. Stacia is also a licensed Chaplain and Life Coach. Stacia began her English degree, with a minor in psychology at Owens Community College, USA, then continued to work toward her BA in English through the University of Phoenix, USA. Stacia is the mother of two beautiful girls, and Oma to three grandsons. Stacia’s life’s goal and dream is to encourage others with her words, witness peace, love, and harmony among all humanity, and smile contagiously until the Earth’s Sun ceases to shine; a smile is contagious! Stacia’s book Escape Down the Roman Road is available at WestBow Press, Amazon.com, Books- A- Million, and Barnes and Noble. Her poetry book, The Enchantment, is available at Amazon.com. Our Poetry Archive can be accessed at http://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com, and Atunis Galaxy’s 2018 Anthology of Contemporary World Poetry is available at lulu.com.

SIAMIR MARULAFAU

How Can I Reject

How can I reject my love

No wonder if I don't say to delay

In the year of 2024 is not fine

But in the year of 2025 is really changed

How can I reject my love

It looks like the previous thing be strengthen

Years by years is impossible

How can I reject my love

If the year is not coming to change

Since thy life is also different from time to time

Those who know will be witness

How can I reject my love

To the year of my favourite

All the trees have agreed that it will be a good fortune of us

Looking At The Corner Of Your Eyes

My love is not like rainbow

It is not like what you see

I keep it up in my heart always

No one can know how I am in your eyes

But every year you are noticed

There never I am out off looking for nothing

Since my love in January, 2024

And the love is true in January 2025

You should keep in mind

My love is not like a dream love

It is not like a water fall

Though the current has no an eye

But my love in 2025 will be a blooming leave

Everything is changed

Not like the year before and before

Untrue Love

I am not in the corner of your love

There is something behind

Which strikes my heart

I know your love is only a game

Which makes my feeling be up set

How beautiful your voice to seduce

But there is no real in lives

I am not in the corner of your love

Since the worm is in your dream

Has found a secret dark

Does thy life spoils from now and then

Let me alone in the world of mine

SIAMIR MARULAFAU

SIAMIR MARULAFAU is a teaching staff employed as Assoc. Prof. at the Vocational Faculty at University of Sumatera Utara, Medan - Indonesia. He is a bilingual poet and a writer of 9 poem anthologies published. He is also a presenter and speaker of National and International seminar in many countries. In July 7, 2024 he was awarded Honorary Doctorate, DR HC, PhD by The Thames International University, France.

SEDINA BRKIĆ

I’m Nowhere To Be Found

I'm nowhere to be found.

They killed me a long time ago.

I was young when the hand was cruel

burnt down my house, destroyed the hearth.

I've been bleeding all over the world for years

and I don't remember exactly when and where I fell.

That was the first time they killed me.

The second time I was killed by the rulers.

Heartless and proud.

Both state, world, and religious.

With his lies and hypocrisy.

A direct shot to the mind.

Millions of my sisters and brothers

with a cheerful, pure soul

they died with me.

They killed us all in turn!

I'm nowhere to be found.

Some say that I am in the company of poets, weirdos.

As we wander through the verse lost,

driven by crazy imagination.

And others, again,

who trample on other people's lives,

the third time they killed me,

in torment and great suffering,

when I saw children being killed.

They killed me the most painfully.

They say,

that they saw me with my beloved,

far away somewhere.

They saw us, they say, cheerful and happy.

And the unfaithful hands of my dear

they killed me for the fourth time.

It digs from the heart of the poor

and the last straw of trust.

I'm nowhere to be found.

They say,

and that they saw my body

as he wanders the slopes of the mountains

and treads the clear forest streams barefoot.

And he is no longer surprised by man's miracles.

And he never cries. Nor sings.

Nor does he greet people anymore.

I'm nowhere to be found.

God alone knows where I am

since I gave myself to Him.

I stopped being afraid.

I stopped counting my deaths.

Only my defiant love remained

thirsty to feed and defend against unrest.

Don't look for me, children, survivors,

I leave you only my songs,

because I'm nowhere anymore

in this fake world.

Stepping

Between the day I was born and died

dashed line,

made by the feet

Of barefoot girls.

Dress with floral pattern

and button fastening at the neck

they do not give off pain

to the hungry eyes of the world.

Staring at the divine beauty

the soul grew

and flows to its source in heaven.

Sometimes it comes out

scattered flocks of words

and through song

souls fly away

which are not afraid

walking through the menagerie.

Do You Know?

Do you know how birds are made?

in my bosom

and I made their nest

of woven verses

Do you know the path

with which I step

they have no shortcuts

nor paved paths

because they lead to heaven.

Do you know that one place in the universe

count the beats of life

and awaits the return of my soul?

Do you know that I'm just nothing

in this torn skin

and when I go

I will be everything again.

SEDINA BRKIĆ

SEDINA BRKIĆ was born in Sarajevo in 1974. She writes poems, stories and aphorisms. Represented in various anthologies, magazines and on many web portals. She is the author of three collections of poems: "I dreamed of Bosnia, mother" (Split, 2002), "Between Good and Evil" (Split, 2002) and "Watching between Raindrops" (Slavonski Brod, 2019) and the satirical collection "Why did you need evolution, you monkey?!” (Lead, 2024) She likes working with children and young people. She works as a teacher in Olovo.

SABIHA KÜÇÜKTÜFEKÇI

Love Accident

aswemoveda waywewereclose

as we get closer<----->a clift

we were a tale at one point between existence and nonexistence we bloomed so many thorns out of season

without a twilight we withered so many days at our heart in how many moments we consumed ourselves

not to say how many

we shot the sun in the womb of earth 2 total darkness was born

so much so

you cannot see your hand in front of your face time/less

pains we planted started bearing fruit a poison as you look at it

a poison as you dip into it

we used to be honey... we became poison hemlock we were fooled we kept being fooled we were burnt as the poison burnt ah beloved!

as pulling the trigger of our heart, it's demon who was charging love threw up death accidentally -

al-fatehah...

though we returned to life as you<-> me were saying us we died in love

we did not know, we could not... beloved we should have krown... love would kill accidentally.../

Sabiha*)* Küçüktüfekçi

English Translation By Mesut ŞENOL

şükûfe

A Sorry State Of Affairs

to which illegible book's well-off bookmark you used to be a mirror to yourself, şüküfe*

o thorn on the rose, in which way did you wither you held on to the thorny ropes decorated with the blue bead at gallows awaiting its executioner of vague questions

you were notated, and your tears coming out of distilled symphony of sorrow, sago

you got stretched and stressed between so much silence of lost whiny grievances you were nailed on the edges of tongue, o big one

o şükûfe, to which book's poor bookmark you used to be a mirror to yourself, a sala being recited for

a sorry state of affairs

where is your book şüküfe

Sabiha*)* Küçüktüfekçi

* şükûfe: a female name, an unopened flower-a bud, the name of a style based on flowers in decoration

English Translation By Mesut ŞENOL

∞ paradoks ∞

*Ekolüssü / Creative Literature*

*I.*

He gazed enviously at the sky, tears flowed from his eyes.

"I am tired of crawling on the ground; I want to fly in the heaven," said the serpent.