Sivil Uniform

Sivil

Ne etsen bir şeye benzemez 
okul etekleri
Üstten kıvırdığında da 
daralttığında da değişmez 
Hep o aynı faremsi gri
 
Çabalı farklılık nedir bilirsin 
Kaç kuşak sonrasında 
Biraz da genç kızlığındır 
baktığın, evcil deli
 
Hâlâ zor sivil zamanlar 
Ve çok sefil bir gayret 
Kendi olmak dediğin
 
İlk darbendir gri okul etekleri
 

Uniform

They won’t look good no matter what you do
school skirts
Even when you roll them up at the waist
or take them in it makes no difference
Always that same mouse grey
 
You know the pains it takes to look different
After so many generations
It’s a piece of your girlhood
you’re looking at, that half-tamed madness
 
Even now moments out of uniform are hard
And it demands a miserable effort
What we call being oneself
 
It’s their first strike against us
the grey school skirt
 

Civil

No matter what you do they won’t look good
school skirts
Even when you twist/bend them from the top
narrow them they won’t change
Always that same mouse-like grey
 
You know what effortful difference is
Following how many generations 
It is also a bit of your girlhood 
you’re looking at, (that) domestic mad
 
Civil moments are still hard
And it requires very miserable effort
What we call being oneself
 
It is your first blow the grey school skirts
 
​
 

Original Poem by

Karin Karakaslı

Translated by

Canan Marasligil with Sarah Howe Language

Turkish

Country

Turkey