Wednesday, November 1, 2023

SERDAR EPOZDEMIR

 


Father

 

“What you call father is already an incomplete word.

Fathers always remain unfinished…”

 

I grew up as he had been setting onto work

He was ambitious for food

But was tired for love

Wherever there was pain

He always stood ready 

He would toil unmurmuringly

Without saying

Why is this happening?

Is there anyone else?

Words fail me!

Time is restricted

Emotions are intense

Generations are helpless…

That's how he just walked off!

 

Among the remains

I was a boy looking for his father

Seas are parallel to the mountain

Hopes to the sky

When I felt the pain in his breath

And searched for love

I shed tears after him

Somehow, I wouldn't have found him anyway!

 

Translated By Recep Nas

 

Feelings

 

Don't you know?

Whatever it is you run away from

It is that will come to your way! 

In ominous times

The being protects itself.

All in all, they're all one!

There is no limit for the heart in teaching

Once it is unfaithful

There is no sanction for it as well.

Somehow

Frailty of sincerity won't unsurprise

The dislocated world

Postpones the pain of wounds

And waits, waits, waits

Its protector

Loneliness was playing the saz

Among the remains of the unfathered city

People hadn’t looked at the mirrors

Since they imposed a ban on language

Pledged the feeling

And posted a denouncer in the street

The gentry were as novice

To the first-hand money

And to the gossip articulated at first hand

As a lover who was kissed for the first time.

Your feelings were

So close,

So far away,

So helpless…

 

Translated By Recep Nas

 

My Mommy

 

When your eyes stroll down memory lane

And your hands wade into the life 

Pain in your knees

Watches out for

The night blues

In your angelic eyes

Tatvan's cry

When it stabs you in the heart,

They no longer look for tomorrow.

After all

You've forgotten your beloved one!

You find the lifetime burdensome

Inasmuch as you live in merciless lands

In the hustle and bustle you left behind

In the city full of swamps

In fact, how much you loved

The plenty of hopeful love

That you gave to the poorest of men

To the painful one,

And to the down trod that you suckled

From the spring of life

The memory of resisting children

Who are not able to find meaning in fate,

With their patient souls

Free from fear and predestination

The essence of life.

Slight ache in your heart

Is for us, my Mommy.

 

Translated By Recep Nas

 

SERDAR EPOZDEMIR

 

SERDAR EPOZDEMIR: Kurdish poet, medical doctor, and academician from Turkey. He was born in Diyarbakir in 1966, and raised in several cities of Turkey. He entered Sivas Cumhuriyet University Faculty of Medicine in 1985 and graduated in 1991. In 2000, he started his specialization training in Mersin University Faculty of Medicine, Department of Anesthesiology and Reanimation. He completed his education in 2005. He received the title of Associate Professor in 2019. He is married and has three children. He describes himself as "reader of fifty years and writer of ten years". His passion is his job and he describes literature, music, and philosophy as his "breathing areas". He has three published poetry books in Turkish named "Düşerken" and "Biriz".

 

 


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