WHAT SPECIES OF HUMANITY ARE YOU?
What species of humanity are you?
Whatever kind you are, you don't worry us.
According to hearsay
you were willing to lay your hands
on small items
deposited by my mother
to the communal account
opened close to a bank.
I know that since its existence
Istanbul has changed others.
Some who have gone there wearing worn down shoes
have returned in high heels.
You continue to brush its streets with your skirt.
Mirrors do not show what really happens. Ah, yes, you forget so quickly
the dusty streets of the sub-prefecture
of your childhood.
This ruse is your currency of the moment.
I know you.
You have swindled your brothers and sisters
with many recoveries.
My daughter, is there nobody to take you by the hair
and demand that you seek out America or Europe?
You have invented a lie to fill your pockets with money. What species of humanity are you?
Whatever kind you are, you don't worry us. Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Paris, le 09.10.2004
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick 25.10.2004 PARADOXPOETRY
THE VALLEY OF THE CULPRITS
In the valley of the culprits
be patient.
Remain planted on your legs
to be struck
by the newcomers and leaving them
never look behind you,
so that each one can see
the hairstyle on the nape of your neck.
In the valley of the culprits
while insults fuse
do not say anything, especially
make like the nightingale which ate a blackberry
while the human one depreciates.
The bump at the end of your nose
must not have an impact on your spirit.
Know that your language burns if you eat while pricking
and your backyard burns if you speak bitterly.
Above all
forget your mother, and your father.
It is not necessary to worry about their fate
or that they are weakened physically
and drag themselves along.
Do not say anything.
Drop...
Let your efforts break down.
Let the mast be reversed...
Carry on your way simpering.
If you see a fallen friend
above all have no feeling
no pity
and if you have envy, give him another kick.
Do you know that nobody is thinking of you at this moment?
If you come across a large turkey
cut its throat without saying anything to anybody
and eat it!
Have no panic, remain still
where you are well hidden!
In any event
You are in the valley of the culprits.
You will be viewed badly if you work much.
You will be driven out if you speak the truth.
You will be crushed
if you go the way of love.
You will be beaten in various ways
if you resist tyranny.
You know
that there are things not to be neglected.
In any event
you are in the valley of the culprits
Be pitiless!
You know that integration is spoken about uniquely,
that at least your indentity card is like theirs.
One demands it from you insistently.
If in spite of all you do not like
all that I have just said
do what you want, act according to your desires
as well as your accomplishments.
One never knows
Perhaps you will be accepted! Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Paris - 04.11.2004
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick 05.12.2004 MINDFIRE EUROPE
IT IS THE AGE OF CUCUMBERS
I've always said:
"A door that four people cannot open
a dog opens with the end
of its nose
and goes on its way..."
No one is surprised though.
It is the age of cucumbers. A machine washes the linen,
a man does not find time
to wash himself.
In certain bald heads
there is everything but hair,
and humanity. In the castles
are wood worms,
not sultans,
living like kings...
No one is surprised though.
It is the age of cucumbers. Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick 2004 EMULATORI.IT
THIRD DARKNESS
In hatred's contradictions
it is a chain
passing by emptiness. Figures
in color
are at the brink of prejudice. As one goes along
words become strained,
trapped,
the light of July
split in two. Friendship was so slight
without greeting
at the beginning of the morning. The mask of egoism
has fallen now.
It is time to evaluate
the worth of theory
in the fields of interest.
Greed's harvest
has been taken away. The wheel has turned
against the cold
some heartbeats
from the morning,
from the third darkness.
The winds have blown
with unique meaning. Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Paris 20.05.2001
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick 2004 THE CONTAX G PAGES
THE CITY WHICH IS INSIDE YOU
You live in your own inner city, which you bought in a
silent auction.
You were again unable to cancel your debts.
Under your blackening eyelids you try to feel certain
things.
Without noticing your withdrawal from self, you leave for
distant parts
by using your ropes of thought like a ski-lift.
Your shudders increase as you touch the numberless elements.
In your screams at the moment when you feel the jolts
from the echoes
of your words crossing the threshold of your thought,
you send birds fleeing before you. As you breathe, your
roses wither.
In your moments of madness, crystals fall from your roof.
As your field of thought shrinks, your city expands. You
exhaust yourself
from running down the streets and avenues.
As the lamps of your voltage machines alight upon your
nights,
your humans robotize themselves.
The toads in your dirty waters frighten even the crocodiles.
Your inner journey makes you grow older.
Your internal cries amplify themselves.
You manifest difficulties with forty paws.
The auxiliary cells of your laboratories do not give you
the opportunity to live any pleasurable moments.
While the fear indicator inside you slackens you through
and through, you
have not
even the possibility of speaking. With each movement of
the clock,
the seasons rip themselves out of your heart.
Your solitude traverses your spirit without cease.
by Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Mantes la Ville - 22.09.2002
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by F.J. Bergmann - 16.02.2003MOONGATE
THE CHILDREN OF MIDNIGHT
Memory of war is silenced in them
and there is a tiredness in their knees,
the children of midnight kneel before the sun...
this only one
of the many thousands of sorrows
covering their eyes
as if they were thirsty for a drop
of the moon's light
The children of midnight
walk fallen in the dark,
resembling the sky
I cannot leave these sensitive, indifferent ones
I still do not know, after how many years?
I re-examine them
and they still cry,
these children of midnight
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Istanbul - 25.12.1976
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick 05.12.2004
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