KAMBER ATEŞ, HOW ARE YOU?

This poem is written for a Kurdish mother, visiting her son in prison
seeing him for the first time after seven years,
but she is forbidden to speak her own language,
so she uses a sentence she learned on the way there.

My tongue is under arrest my son
I cannot speak to you,
things I want to say
are deep within my eyes,
and only this sentence
repeated on my lips;
the emotion in my heart
reflected in the tone of my voice:
-Kamber Ateş, how are you?

My tongue is under arrest my son
I cannot speak to you.
You will find in my eyes the yearning,
the pain and the love within me.
My son, I missed you.
-Kamber Ateş, how are you?

My tongue is under arrest my son
I cannot speak to you.
In my eyes blooms the joy of reunion.
The odour of thymes,
the violets in vineyards
I brought you from home
bloom and enter your cell
in the colour of the socks I weaved for you.
Is there anything you want my son?
-Kamber Ateş, how are you?

My tongue is under arrest my son
I cannot speak to you.
Look into my eyes carefully
you will understand my words.
In the depth of my eyes
numerous sleepless nights,
anxious waiting due to news I heard.
Were they cruel to you?
-Kamber Ateş, how are you?

My tongue is under arrest my son
I cannot speak to you.
From my eyes to yours,
flowing, growing
the scream in my heart, the thought in my brain.
My advice to you son,
do not lose your resilience
don’t let your head drop,
don’t surrender to defeat.
-Kamber Ateş, how are you?

My tongue is under arrest my son
I cannot speak to you.
Look into my eyes carefully,
as I say farewell to you.
In the sorrow of my eyes,
that bluest sky, cloudy mountains,
flowers in the fields,
cascading waters of streams.
Love and freedom, that you’re fighting for.
My beloved son, goodbye.
-Kamber Ateş, how are you?

(From Blue is the Color of the Mediterranean)

***

BLUE İS THE COLOR THE OF MEDITERRANEAN

The sky fills your eyes
love fills your heart
the sea fills with rage
hurling its wrath on the rocks
eagles perch on the peaks
and fly away
two wild honeysuckles
embrace one another
on the slopes of the Taurus Mountains
the Mediterranean turns into a melody.

The sky fills your eyes
love fills your heart
a butterfly makes love to a daisy
a fish makes love to the white foam
a tremor ripples through the corn still ripening
as it turns from green to yellow.
The poppies
- each an uprising against the darkness -
color the spring in red.

The sky fills your eyes
love fills your heart
on these mountain tops
a maiden wanders about the inlets
her hair of bay tree
the aroma of sage in her hands
the taste of the myrtle fruit in her mouth
her eyes cornflowers
- perhaps a nomad girl
perhaps an intoxicated poet –
in search of bygone springs.

The sky fills your eyes
love fills your heart
dark-complexioned people
carrying the sun on their faces
- farmhands of wheat, tobacco, cotton harvests –
their breathing intensifies,
their hands lock
in love and in fighting,
Turning their faces towards
shepherds’ fires
their cheeks aflame
their eyes shining bright
they sing forbidden songs
looking at the stars.

The Mediterranean, my beloved
wild violet
the symbol of my resistance, of my hope
the homeland of my poetry;
no one could eclipse
your sun
extinguish your fire
because my heart is the Mediterranean
and blue is the color of the Mediterranean

(From Blue is the color of the Mediterranean)

***

ORIGAMI

I am making paper ships on and on
their name is freedom
to swim fearlessly
in the seas of the world.
The child inside me is afraid
of the torpedo.
The eyes of the child inside me
a blackout night in Iraq

I am making aeroplanes from paper
To throw flowers to earth
instead of bombs.
The child inside me is afraid
of the war planes.
The eyes of the child inside me
a cold Balkan night

I am making trucks from paper
to carry bread to hungry children
instead of guns.
The child inside me is afraid
of tanks and hunger.
The eyes of the child inside me
a lonely desert night.

I am making trains from matchboxes
to carry books behind the mountains
for people to be enlightened.
The child inside me is afraid
of darkness.
The eyes of the child inside me
an Afghan night without stars.

I am making birds from paper
So they can take wings
to blueness with love,
with thousands of cranes for peace.
The child inside me
loves birds and peace
The eyes of the child inside me
a Palestinian night under siege.

I am making children from paper
hand in hand
black, brown and white.
To surround the world all over
with love.
The child inside me is missing
a peaceful life.
The eyes of the child inside me
a sunny spring morning.

(From Forbidden Love Words)

***

LULLABY TO MY CHILD

Sleep my child sleep
wipe the fear away from your eye.
Now only in fairy tales
the seven headed dragon
breathing flames from its mouth.
- Now, my child, fear
lies in the iron heaps of tanks
with their death spitting barrels –

Sleep my dearest sleep
wipe the fear away from your eye.
In fairy tales only
lives the wicked hearted queen
that poisoned the little girl.
- Now, my child, fear is
people stealing milk
and adding poison to the bread of children –

Sleep my child sleep
wipe the fear away from your eye.
Only in fairy tales
remain the giants of mount Kaf,
genies that paralyze children.
- Now, my child, fear is
bombs with nuclear heads
destroying people all at once –

Sleep my child sleep
wipe the fear away from your eye.
Smile at your dreams,
let roses bloom on your cheeks.
Sleep so swiftly you may grow
there is hope also in fairy tales.

Now, my child, hope
is not in the fairy godmother,
not the cunning Keloğlan
nor the princess in love.
Hope is in you, my child
and in people like you.
- Sleep so grow swiftly you may -

(From September Saying)

***

HISTORICAL OPTIMISM

Who says
the path of life is smooth?
It has ascents and descents,
detours too,
and also crossroads…
And paths,
unexpectedly, hand in hand,
together step by step
leading to hope, as well…

Who says
love is finished
in the new world order?
Love shoots
in pure hearts again,
just like life blossoming
in between stones.

Who says
the heart of the bard dried up
and he cannot
write verses anymore?
As long as poppies blow in the wind,
birds fly in the heavens
white buds
bloom on branches
hope does not run out,
persists love on the tip of a pen…

Who says
whatever lived and will be yet,
and history is finished
in the cosmos of humanity?
The Sun rises again every morning,
and the world is rebuilt
by the hands of humans…

(From Forbidden Love Words)

***

YOUR EYES İN THE MIRROR OF THE MOON

The moon is bright
dark is the day
the moon is rising slowly
Like a silver tray.

I am looking at the moon with hope
in case your eyes
catch the mirror of the moon

in case we meet there.

(From Women in Search of Life)

***

I KNOW HOW IT IS

I live through
what all women live through
I dust the days
and brush joy clean.
I sew
sometimes I knit
I enjoy
creating useful things
I write poems…

I’m a mother
I know about
sleepless nights
at a sick child’s bedside.
I live through
what all women live through.
The hop of a timid pigeon
my steps coming back from work at night.
A sparrow in cat claws
my heart dreading the absence of love.

I am a poetess, writing
the pain of woman
her hope
her love.
I am a woman
what I live
is what I write.

(From My Heart Feels Sorrow in May)

***

VERDICT

Standing up altogether
we have to show the power of the streets.
We should sing a song, a song
sang together with people
looking for justice, defiant;
So as to wipe the word of war
from all over the world.

(From So as to Wipe the Word of War from all Over the World)
The poems were translated by Haldun Sonkaynar

Gülsüm Cengiz, poems in Turkish and English

Gülsüm Cengiz was born in 1949. She took her education at İstanbul Teacher’s School. She worked as a teacher from 1966 until 1980 in Balıkesir and in Istanbul. She left her job on 1980. Later, she has worked as editor, publishing director and publishing coordinator in publishing houses. She has worked as an article writer in daily newspapers. She has also prepared and presented some radio and television programmes. She works as a lecturer at the Comparative Literature Department Osmangazi University and also as a programmer on Hayat TV. She is a member of the Turkish Writers Syndicate, the Associated of Literateurs, the Associated of Playwright and Turkish PEN Centre.
She started to write poetry in 1970 and has been writing every since. Later she has written many stories and novel for children and youth. She also writes plays, essays and articles. Many of her works have been translated and published in abroad. Her poems have appeared in many international magazines and she has received many literary prizes.