Metin Celal
(Turkey)
135 WAKE-UP SERVICE
I lived as if setting out on a long journey
I prepared for death, gave up at midway
I clung to the seduction of harmony
questions remained unanswered
the smell of mold had long penetrated me
in manner civilized and with no personality
of those with nothing left to say
the walls sweated, humidity rotted the stone
I clung to your voice, to that mistake
I sniffed thinner, I said
my brain melted, shrank and vanished
I submitted to the rules and was rewarded
the silent tension lingering between us
disappearing when suppressed
remembered when disappearing
with the stability of the days
captured a child in its hands
ruthless as the aged and children
pointing to the mistakes I attributed to amphetamine
you simply left, saying
if you’re gonna fall
fall right into the midst of yourself
© Translated by Suat Karantay
LIFE TIES
we were going where the names fell into disuse
with everybody from now and past
if circumstances fall behind
to be able to decorate the reality
Our intimacy was noticed
a hyacinth was shooting up
in the anniversary of dead
we knew who to call
habits were curbing us
daily affairs, dealings
we had to keep quiet when we were asked
we were not allowed to speak of the life which is not ours
memories were derelict to cool down
no one could separate us even in the photographs
we were not allowed to share your happy moments
there were also troubles to tell
always there and ready to listen
AT WHO THE BENJAMIN’S BAG WAS LEFT?
thereat the word “reality” was in the news
we proffered to be serious and dignified
nobody saw us laughing
we were known by our names
thereat Turkish was spoken
we were not aware in which upcountry we are living
cliff-hangers were the dream’s land
our daughters were cross-eyed, mother at seventeen
whose life ended before saying a single phrase
thereat being religious was in vogue
dining pray always turned up at tables
payrolls were signed, at nine to five jobs
our wives never washed with sunlight
raki was drunken while listening radio
thereat we lived with the pain of attaching the life importance
he haven’t been snatched away from our identities
we were remains of war, the ones who left medical school
no one met anyone who recognizes our face
they last saw us in woman dresses
Gümüşlük 2011
© Translated by Gökçenur Ç
THE CONFORMIST
it was as if everything had been experienced before
we had already known those streets before even we walked on them
all the words to be said had already been written
our cold corpses were destined to be sad
little fragments of life and trivial details
included within the limits of our knowledge
but we weren’t allowed to change anything at all
this life had to be led that way
while waiting to calm down, after each and every nightmare
there was one statement that we could hold onto:
“Children who eat fire
die before they turn out twenty.”
June 1990
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Metin Celal (1961, Ankara – Turkey) Poet, writer. He started his university education at the Middle East Technical University, Faculty of Petroleum Engineering (1982) and then graduated from Istanbul University, Faculty of Journalism and Public Relations (1985). His first poem was published in 1980 (Olusum). At the same time he published poems and literary critics in the well known turkish literary journals (Varlik, Gosteri, Sanat Olayi…, 1980 – ). He is among the founders of the “1980s Poetry” movement. He and poet friends from the “1980s Poetry” movement published poetry journals: Imge/Ayrim(1984), Poetika (1985), Fanatik (1989). He found a Contemporary Turkish Poetry web site (turksiir.com) in english and turkish (1999 – ). His poems have been translated and published in 9 languages. He worked as an editor in the publishing companies (Imge, Gunes) and literary magazines; Sombahar (Poetry, 1990 – 1996), E (Literature, 2003-), Ozgur Edebiyat (2007-13). He is the editor of the Parantez Publishing(1992 – ). He is the Coordinator of the Istanbul Poetry Festival (2008 – ).