Letters To My Hope (III)
Today the
picture in my eyes appears to be black & white...
Like everything
else I have been trying to fit into life. Wasn't it an apple that made Adam and
Eve cast out of Eden?
Or weren't they
the legs of a chair that balance it...
You feel
incomplete when your beloved is not by your side.
You feel a pang
of grief whenever you feel the longing for him, And your hands would be in the
vacuum as you extend them...
As you would see
the colors of the photos in the albums, and the pictures on the walls fade...
One part of a
human being would be deprived... Through the wall he leans on gets collapsed,
and staying under so many memories lived. Flowers would find life and grow, and
buds bloom on twigs. The birds would sing if they are happy. If the sun appears
then the clouds in the sky turn into cotton...
Today the
picture in my eyes appears to be black & white… Everything I took a look at
loses their color. “Love” seems to be swathed and hidden in hideaway places.
“Respect” appears lost in damp and dirty. “Friendship” is let suspended in the
air for eternity on the tail of the so-called kite released as it was hanging
on by a thread. The pointer of the scale is not staying in balance!
By taking away
their games, children are left in vacuum…
Where is now the
play of tagging…
Dodgeball,
sliding board, puss-in-the corner played with seven pieces of tile?
Girls playing
house, boys playing marbles…
Our dads holding
their string bags full of items inside,
Where are they
now?
Our friendly
chats lasting till the late hours under the street lamps, our “Iden Granies”?
I miss them all.
How pleasant
used to to sound the voice of the chats made by grandma Iden and grandpa Iden
coming from their shanty house.
The smell of the
carnations in the tin boxes in their gardnes, ivies elevating themselves by
holding on to the whitewashed walls, honeysuckles and ever blooming roses...
How beautiful
was the whiteness of the dazzling blued laundry… Following the crowing of the
purebred roosters heralding the morning, grandma Iden pulling water from the
lifting pump…
In fact, Iden
wasn’t the real name of the grandma and the grandpa.
When I got up I
used to wave at them every morning out of the window of our house located on a
higher elevation.
Grandma Iden
calling me “come from time to time” after squeezing some hard and cheese
candies wrapped in a handkerchief inside my palm… I recalled again the taste
and smell of the candies on the days she gave to me and the days followed.
A lightened
smile with a childish joy was spreading on their face saddened by their
loneliness. On the day I went there. I had seen her trembling hands as she was
slipping the readied handkerchief filled with candies. I had not asked the
names of the grandma and grandpa. I was too small a child as much as I
remember. The reason I name them “Grandpa Iden, Grandma Iden” is because I
recorded them as such in my head. Maybe it was so because of their trembling
hands.
Today the
picture in my black & White eyes, cloudy with my tears.
If only, my
eyelashes would paint the colors of my heart, and if only the black & white
picture would become colored again…
If only the
colors of those days would not pale in my eyes.
Isn’t it the
half of an apple to complete the other half?
And I’d say if
only.
If only your
return would complement life!
English
Translation by Mesut ŞENOL
On That Line
You are on the
point where the sea meets the sky.
Even though I
would be a seagull
the wind sits at
my wings
I cannot get to
you
You my Sun,
while you go down
me the Moon, I
will rise
maybe as the
evening was descending over the sea
you at one edge,
me on another
we will be
facing each other for a while
You, in the red
colors of the Sun
me, in the
silvery color of the Moon
will be united
only in sea sparkles.
The sea will
receive us with open arms
we will be
getting to the beach with gushing waves
the beach is
wet… The beach as moist as my eyes
the pebbles,
that did not get cold, are still hot
like my heart
You are on the
point where the sea meets the sky.
Even though I
would be a sailing boat
and set sail
heading towards you
the wind sits at
my sails
and I cannot get
to you
even though the
nights
and days pass
the moisture of
the sea is on my sails
like my wet eyes
In the darkness
of the night
a dot like light
on my sailing mast
with the rolling
waves
it will blink at
my heart.
Like my hopes
one day my heart
in love will give in
with my eyes
open
on that line
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.
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