LEYLA IŞIK

 

As I Heard About It…

 

As I heard about it, you would be coming at a moment when my life paused. My tears were drowning in my joy. I cried alongside with rains. I embrace whatever ecstatic are within time. For the sake of not hurting, my heart is falling on your heart like a super soft feather…

Now I have got to get prepared by getting out of the captivity of sadness, and I have to mess up my hair. I have also to talk about the time elapsed without you, with the scent of the spring on my skin and on my face smiles I collected from roses, and my looks in the fire of longing. You just need to be silent and listen. What I am going to tell you is about the longing of the two souls… It is about how I appeased the delicate pains stretching down the pit of the night, and how I applied time on them hoping that it would alleviate those pains…

As I heard about it, you would be coming… How nice! I will not dream of you anymore in the dark nights by lying down, and the ceiling will not stare at my eyes, and the walls will not walk all over me and they will not judge me. I will not envy my curtain playing with the wind. The daylight will infiltrate from my window, and the roses of my curtain will be opened again, and balmy you will drop on my palms. I will bath and be purified out of your absence, and I will dry myself with happiness.

As I heard about it, you would be coming…I did rejoice. At the moment, your footsteps did not mean that you will come. Out of happiness, I planted a kiss on the lips of the night. Please don’t be uneasy! Having forgotten everything, I buried them in my pains. By making peace with my vows, I will not seek answers to my questions. I will set up time over again, and I will draw your picture on the walls with my eyelashes. I will harden my heart for my side without you. The dusty mirror will give my face back. I will see us in the mirror with the purity of carnation.

 

English Translation By Mesut Şenol

 

Never Liked Sundays

 

My side without you

Woke up to the pigeons’ calls heralding the day.

They say today is Sunday…

I never liked Sundays.

A faceless painting on the wall

A broken and cloudy mirror…

Half drunken cup of tea,

Laundry in the basket to be hung out…

Everything left from yesterday night.

Huge void is stretching for kilometers in front of me.

Kids of my inner body are feeling anxious.

Kites with broken off thread are going up wiggly.

My reached-out hands as if to say “halt, don’t go” hung by the window

I experience another season without you in the presence of the Spring being seen off even before its arrival.

While saying “Wake up! Wake up. Look it’s morning”

The way you pull the curtain comes back to my memory.

I woke up,

To which Sundays I have no idea even you ask me…

I’d say why don’t I release the storm inside me,

If only the roofs of the houses would fly off and I would see the happy, hidden faces inside… I’d say why don’t I release the storm inside me,

If only the roofs of the houses would fly off and I would hear the childish screams… I’d say why don’t I release the storm inside me,

And my longing doesn’t die down.

The door of getting out is closed,

Their curtains are drawn tightly.

You lie tired on the iron bed.

“Soap operas” on an old brand radio.

Dirty laundry wanting to get out of the half open suitcase on the ground.

“You used to like the short and long travels.”

You would send a letter burnt on its edge from every port you stop by,

Whenever I read it, I used to think of how much you would burn without me.

A smile used to pervade my face. Again, I would have kissed and smelled the letter burnt on its edge in my hands.

Your voice would have echoed in my ears,

“You are all my strength and the reason to live, and you mean the world to me.”

I would have not concerned myself whether you are okay in the vast oceans,

And for what was that time passed behind a window?

Would you really listen to “soap operas”?

And unfinished stories of love.

Weren’t they sailor’s ballads you keep on saying

Now it’s me who murmur those ballads,

In silence where no one could hear.

I am like hidden letters in a locked chest,

I imprisoned myself in a boxy room.

I relieve you all night long

And unsleeping, I poise over you.

I cause myself to suffer from your pains I could not share.

I hold my tongue.

I was with you that I spoke with someone for the last time.

I do not wish the traces of our legends on my lips about love to be erased.

I do not wish my side without you waking up by the pigeons’ calls

Would rise to any Sunday anymore.

It would only be you to make me wake up out of deep sleeps.

I never liked Sundays,

Wait, I come over you…

 

English Translation By Mesut ŞENOL

 

You Ran Behind…

 

I would not shed tear inside,

My silence was not my defeat…

Should your heart be pulled away beforehand?

What would I do?

Your eyes did not meet my eyes,

My very hands did not hold yours,

I did not hear the sound of your heart deeply

What would I do?

What would have changed, should I say “stay, don’t go”.

This was the latest migration of love of many,

How many times I was crippled by the bends coming from you…

Now I am thinking, like the disarrayed pages of a notebook in front of me,

Memories are toing and froing on the pendulum of time.

Is it the winter?

Or the summer?

Why there is so much defoliation?

Or else did the last spring arrive?

O Beloved!

I am in darkness of your absence’s pit.

How much time is needed to get to sunrise?

I just forgot how to reckon.

Calendar pages never run out; they multiply as you unstick.

As your shadow hung on the walls looks at me, it flows the longing for you into my eyes.

Does this face I see in the mirror belong to me?

Such a strange one to me!

O Beloved!

Again silent,

Again hopeless,

Again the knot of the unsaid words sits on my tongue.

As I die with your longing,

You ran behind!

My heart killed you as well with the sharp knives inside my body.

 

English Translation By Mesut Şenol

 

LEYLA IŞIK

LEYLA IŞIK: Educator-Poet-Writer-Artist-Painter. She graduated from Teacher Training College in Usak and Faculty of Education of Eskisehir Anadolu University. She had worked as a teacher for many years. She, Vice President of KIBATEK and International Organization and Project Coordinator, organized the 31st,34 th, 39th, 40 th, 42 nd, 44 the KIBATEK International Litrary Festivals and attended India World Poetry Festival organized by Pentasy B in Hydarabadand “Golden Word” International Literary Festival in Uzbekistan.

Her Awards:2003 - İksder-İzmir Culture and Art Association "Halikarnas Fisher CevatŞakir" First Prize Poetry Award, 2008 – Şaire Mehseti Gencevi (MŞM) Honorary Diploma on behalf of Azerbaijani Baku Poet Mesheti Genjevi for Serving Turkish World Literature. 2013 – Atilla İlhan Friendship and Fidelity Medallion from Platform of Love Izmir 2015 - World Young Writers Association (DGTYB) Literary Award, 2016 - Rumen Dialect, Poetry, Art, Literature Platform International Literature, Friendship and Peace Prize. 2017-Pablo Neruda Cultural Association” Neruda Award 2017”award- Italy Pablo Neruda Cultural Association” Representative for Turkey of Pablo- Neruda-Italy Honorary Member of Italian Cultural Association Pablo Neruda Chief Representative of the World Notation Writers ‘union in Turkey-Kazakhstan  Hyderabad India World Poetry Festival Pentasi B 2017 "Inspirational poetry" award Fellowship Certificate-Fellow of the Regal world of Scribes (FRWS) India World Poetry Festival “Writers Corner - Warangal Medal”  India World Poetry Festival Writers Corner Warangal “The Enchanting Muse Award" World Nations Writers “Union Kazakhstan “Pride of the Globe-2017, WNWU” in Response to exceptional commitment and devotion to literature 2018-OPA-Poetry Archive’s Assignment of Publication  OPA Our Poetry Archive featured poet of the month March. World Award in Literature - 2018, WNWU 2019-Motivational strips “AMBASSADOR DE LITERATURE 2020-Peruvian Union "Literary Excellent Award" Hispanom Dial De Escritores, Motivation           Strips, World Nations Writers Union Chile Diploma and Certificate of Honor Romania International Academy of Arts and Letters Certificate Morocco "International Creativity and Humanity Certificate" India / Daman "World Illustrated Poetry Forum" Grand Woman Poet Award for great success in high virtue assessment

Her books: HUZUR ÇERÇEVEM (E) poetry, SERÜVEN KUŞU İÇİMİN ÖYKÜSÜ poetry – poetic expression, YENİDEN YAŞAMAK GİBİ short story ,BİR BAŞKA DÜŞ (E) poetry - poetic expression, DODAQ İZLERİN poetry -translated and published at Vektör University, DÜŞLERİMİ (Ç) ALDIM ,UYKUSUZ ESRİK GECENİN SABAHINDA ,ULUSLARARASI EDEBİYAT ŞÖLENİ ŞİİR ANTOLOJİSİ Besides  KIBATEK

Aegean Cultural Platform Theatre Coordinator, Literature Association Member , Member of International Activist Artists Association, She is also Turkey Representative and Honorary Member of Italy Pablo Neruda Cultural Association, Member and Turkey representative of World Nation Writers Association. Her poems are published in international anthologies; Galaksi  Poetike  Atanis, Grami Romanesc, Global Voices of 21st Century female Poets QUEEN, Poetry in the Park Collection No 4,Antologia Poetica KIBATEK festival 39 (Italy), www.mearteka.net, Antologia Amaravati Poetic Prism 2018,2019 Her articles and poems have been translated into German, Albanian, Arabic, Romanian, Bosnian, Bulgarian, Dutch, Italian, English and Azeri Turkish, Spanish, Macedonian, Urdu, Chinese by published in anthologies in various journals both in Turkey and abroad. She is painter, received theatre training, writes heather plays besides poetry, short stories and essays. She is the poet of passion, longing, love and struggle.