İki rüyada büyümek Growing up in two dreams

İki rüyada büyümek

Sen uykudan söz ederken
İki rüyada büyümüş biri gibi
Kalbim bölünüyor.
Duvara yansıyan ışığın
Yaptığı kelimeler,
O kelimeler
Uykuda geldiği için belki de
Hâlâ dönüyorlar etrafımda.
Bana dağları anlatıyorlar
İnanmanın kanıyla ayakta duran
Dağları.
 
Çünkü bir sabahtır sonunda
Bizi uyandıracak olan.
Elimizden alınmış dünya ve doğumla
Bir dağ yolunda ilerlerken sen
Bacası tüten bir ev
Sulardan geçip gitmekte olan renk
Anlatmaz yine de
Olanı,
Bize konuşanı
Kimdir?
 
Çünkü tarih açmıştır yaraları bir kez
Öfk enin bağladığı kabuklar
İncelmiştir çoktan.
Artık yalnızca sese sığınıyoruz
Işıklı geceye.
Kime gideceğiz,
Hangi sözle anlatacağız acıyı,
Hangi dilde bağışlanmayı dileyeceğiz?
Bize saf bir başlangıç gerekli
Kelimelerin gün doğumunda
Ruha bağlandığı bir başlangıç.
Bize bir yuvanın şefk ati gerekli,
Kıyısından geçerken bacası tüten bir ev ki
Aff etmenin toprağında
Sığınılacak bir yurt zannedip
Susalım
Susalım.
 
​
 

Growing up in two dreams

While you talk about sleep like someone
who grew up in two dreams
my heart splits.
 
The light reflected on the wall makes words –
perhaps while I slept they appeared –
still swirling around me.
Mountains, they say
the mountains stand still
with the blood of belief.
 
Because it’s morning after all
that will shake us awake.
Earth and our birth-right
have been stolen.
 
You walk a mountain road.
A house with a smoking chimney –
like colour dispersing in water –
doesn’t tell the truth.
 
The one speaking to us
is still invisible.
Who is it?
 
History has already opened these wounds.
Fragile, the scars, thickened
with anger.
 
Our voices are our only shelter in the lit night.
Who can we turn to?
What words can we use to speak of pain,
in what language can we ask to be forgiven?
We need a clean slate,
a sunrise of words,
dawn of the soul.
 
We need the gentle home with chimney smoking.
To walk by its walls on forgiving soil.
We decide this is somewhere
we can take refuge
and fall quiet
we fall quiet
 
 
 

Growing up in two dreams

While you talk about sleep
Like someone who grew up in two dreams
My heart gets divided.
The light reflected on the wall
The words it makes,
Those words
Maybe it is because they come during the sleep
They are still swirling/turning around me.
They tell me about the mountains
The mountains
Standing with the blood of belief.
 
Because it is morning after all
Which will be waking us up.
The world that was taken from our hands and with birth
You advancing/walking on a mountain road
A house with a smoking chimney
The colour passing through water
Could still not tell
What is happening,
The one speaking to us
Who is it?
 
Because history has opened the wounds once
The shells bonded by anger
Have already become thinner.
 
We are now only taking refuge in sound
In the lit night.
To whom are we going to go,
With which words/utterance/talk are we going to tell the pain,
In which language are we going to ask for forgiveness?
We need a pure/pristine beginning
At the sunrise of the words
A beginning bonded to the soul.
We need the tenderness/affection of a home,
When you walk by its shore a house with a smoking chimney so that
On the soil of forgiveness
We deem it to be a home where we can take refuge and
We get quiet
We get quiet.
 
​
 

Original Poem by

Bejan Matur

Translated by

Canan Marasligil with Jen Hadfield Language

Turkish

Country

Turkey