TÜRKÇE

Çeviren: Ege Dündar

 

Mücevherleriz biz,

Karanlıkta parıldarız,

Işığın altında fazlasıyla parlak.

 

Acıklı halimiz,

Bir kitabın sayfalarından,

Fazlasıyla esaslı.

 

Hayattayız olmasına,

Ki bir sanrıdır bu bana,

Yine de buradayız ama,

Gökyüzünün altında.

Yüzyıl,

Gözle kaş arasıdır bir ebedi varlığa.

Bizse burada çırpınıyoruz, yaşamaktan nem almaya,

Layık olmaya rüyalarımıza. Fikirlerimize

Onlar ki kalacak ve dayanacaklar,

Krallıklar çöktükçe

Ölümsüzdür fırçalarımızın darbeleri

Kalemlerimiz. Yazılarımız bir peçete parçasına karalanan.

Rüyalarımız gece boyu dalgalanan

Yalanlar ve masallar anlatan,

Yaşayacağımıza umut olan.

ENGLISH

We are jewels,

For we shine in the dark,

In the light so bright.

 

We are tragic,

From the pages of a book,

So drastic.

 

We are alive,

Which I believe is a lie,

Yet here we are,

Bellow the sky.

 

A hundred years,

Is one mere blink for an immortal.

Here we are trying to live up,

To our dreams. To our ideas.

Which’ll remain and endure.

As kingdoms fall.

 

Our paint strokes are immortal.

Our pens. Our writings scribbled on a napkin.

Our dreams rippling through the night.

Telling lies and tales.

Promising we’ll live.

Writers’ Analysis:

Analysis in 3rd person

The poem makes the audience question living; question what will remain, what will leave, what will fade. And in this beautiful ensemble of words, the author pushes its readers to glimpse a whole other side of immortality. Looking back to her other poems, I see that she didn’t speak of the immortality of nature and spirits, which plays a grand part in Sanem’s poems, for she believes in the eternal life of nature and its wonders. It clearly is different side of her poems. It is the compilation of reflections that both the writer and other people have. Because, don’t we all question reality at some point of the day? Don’t we all look at the mirror and think “what the heck we are?”. The idea of existing in this reality is absurd. Yet here we are. We live, we die. But what remains at the end? Nothing? Isn’t it funny that everything we work on, everything we’ve done and had in this life simply comes to an end in just a second? Or does it come to an end? Do our footprints we leave on the earth, words we speak mean nothing eventually? Are we now the ghosts of what we used to be? Are the remnants of a piece of art, a poem or a portrait, the only thing that’s left of us? Or is it more than that? A series of questions and questions from the moment we’re born until we die marks us. The answers we find to those questions are unusual. We are unusual and tragic and alive. And we, even as we didn’t mark history, mark and carve a meaning to our death and believe we’ve been, we were, we are and will be immortal, for we lived till the end of our lives from dawn until dusk and eclipsed and faded to the night. All we’ve been rippling through the night, dispersing to the hearts and to the stars. “We are jewels, for we shine in the dark and in the light so bright.”

The concept of immortality

What’s immortality? Long life span? Truth is, the mention of immortality became much more than that. We humans tried so hard to mark history and remain, we forgot what was truly eternal and burdened ourselves and searched the Fountain of Youth for all our lives. We missed what really mattered, we missed life- we missed life for life. Our desires are endless and so are we. We birthed at sunrise and died at sunset. Walked through the long path of life, looked back and forth. We lived. Myths and tales tell the mesmerizing adventures of the gods, but they actually bear the morals we should unfold and discover. Zeus lusted for love and taste, Hercules ventured the earth for glory, Olympian gods took sides in the Trojan War and left mankind to perish. Are they holy? No. But are they the correct representation of immortality? Yes…. The concept of immortality turned into and is nothing more than a fantasy born from humankind’s greed, desire and fear.

Bunları da Sevebilirsiniz

“We dıe. That may be the meanıng of lıfe. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lıves.’ ” -Tonı Morrıson, Nobel Laurete ın Lıterature and Vıce-Presıdent of PEN Internatıonal “Art is not a plaything, but a necessity, and its essence, form, is not a decorative adjustment, but a cup into which life …

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Based on this New Yorker piece by Richard Brody. Listed in chronological order and includes short and feature-length documentaries. https://letterboxd.com/crew/list/the-new-yorkers-62-films-that-shaped-the/

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The soft wind comes sweet in the night on the mountain. Invisible except for the sound it makes in the big poplars outside and the feel on his naked, single body, which breathes quietly a little before dawn, eyes open and in love with the table and chair in the transparent dark and stars in …

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