METIN TURAN

 

Caught You By Your Eyes

 

your face was a lilac sun

turning my sorrow into joy

I caught you by your neck

as I climbed the staircase of your figure

 

I caught you by the wind of your hair

a wave as yellow as wheat

as long as the map of my love

I caught you by the way you left,

the journey was the shadow of my day.

 

You know how the earth becomes a fairground -

I caught you by your hand

as if your face touched mine

 

I caught you by your eyes

an aquamarine infinity

by the fire of your voice

that melts marble

 

now your hands smell like jasmine

and your skies have bloomed into April

and you are in another continent

with me in yet another, growing your melancholy

 

I caught you by my life

 

Cyprus And Spring

 

my interrupted dreams fall on your salt-scented breast

at all the stops where I run towards the twilight and the evening,

my belatedness slamming all the passages in my face on tired

boulevards. your tender lips swallow down

inexperience

 

the safe harbor I take refuge in is my solitude

ah! I have lost all I knew by heart, that crazy rote

painting your eyelids violet

those three syllables I still remember from the songs I used to hum

 

archaeologists, misreading my laughter, scratch my face

not that I know about their deceitful looks

I don’t consult daisies every season

all the pains I keep to myself

are the wines I secretly drink

- the young queens of spartacus, each of them, from whose earlobe

I wish I were hanged

in this port town that I came to

like a breeze on cat’s feet

 

with  every grain of sand I step on, cyprus tells my fortune of loneliness

- it’s a crazy season for daisies!

that’s why my homesickness grows

every ticket mailed to me hides the eyes of that coquette!

 

and now, it is as if you were never there on those nights

as if you never woke up to the sheets, wet with my sweat

and as if my boots never stood watch

you will leave behind the balcony bars

and go to a new land by the sea

as if you never carried my tooth marks on your lips.

 

The Epitaph Of Loneliness

 

I knew that all fortune tellers were liars

that every love is denial

and my eyes grew weary

watching my life go by

 

my son follows the storks in a photograph

like a faded autumn painting

when he sees himself in a mirror he timidly reaches out

that’s why documentaries are so interesting

all children have turned into tired fathers coming home

with books they are afraid to carry on their backs

 

when your tears turn into lines

the whole world is flooded

everyone blames the mayor

and covers our lebensraum with cement

we carry the sin of a curse that offers no redress,

oblivious of every cigarette butt we throw away,

of the cypress branch we sharpen,

of all the trees and insects

 

my back turned to the wind, I’m in mid-life now

a willow saving its shadow for itself

the waters evaporate, leaving me dry all over

I hit myself with my sling

now I am the lonely juniper in my forest.

 

my mind replaces women with cups,

reality with coffee,

my heart, as white as a rose, [my heart, as white as a rose from ısparta]

as lonely as the blues, [as lonely as a folk song from emirdağ]

bids you farewell.

 

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. He has contributed as a publishing coordinator, delegate and writer in many progressive editions such as; Amatör Sanat, İmece, Yeni Şiir, Erde, which published in the 1980s. Also he has contributed to the magazines as an owner: Sanat Hareketi, Promete, Sendika, Ürün, Anadolu Ekini, Mecaz ve Praksis. Turan attended numerous international scientific and artistic meetings in Germany, Romania, Kazakhstan, Macedonia, Syria, Bulgaria, Moldova, Ukraine, Azerbaijan, TRNC, Russia, Nakhichevan, Italy, 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, Uzbek, Kurdish, Armenian, Italian, Swedish, 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.