ПЯТАЯ ИНСТАЛЛЯЦИЯ. (THE FIFTH INSTALATION by Anna Akhmatova)

Меня, как реку,
Суровая эпоха повернула.
Мне подменили жизнь. В другое русло,
Мимо другого потекла она,
И я своих не знаю берегов.
О, как я много зрелищ пропустила,
И занавес вздымался без меня
И так же падал. Сколько я друзей
Своих ни разу в жизни не встречала,
И сколько очертаний городов
Из глаз моих могли бы вызвать слезы,
А я один на свете город знаю
И ощупью его во сне найду.
И сколько я стихов не написала,
И тайный хор их бродит вкруг меня
И, может быть, еще когда-нибудь
Меня задушит...
Мне ведомы начала и концы,
И жизнь после конца, и что-то,
О чем теперь не надо вспоминать.
И женщина какая-то мое
Единственное место заняла,
Мое законнейшее имя носит,
Оставивши мне кличку, из которой
Я сделала, пожалуй, все, что можно.
Я не в свою, увы, могилу лягу.
(Но иногда весенний шалый ветер,
Иль сочетанье слов в случайной книге,
Или улыбка чья-то вдруг потянут
Меня в несостоявшуюся жизнь.
В таком году произошло бы то-то,
А в этом – это: ездить, видеть, думать,
И вспоминать, и в новую любовь
Входить, как в зеркало, с тупым сознаньем
Измены и еще вчера не бывшей Морщинкой...)
Но если бы откуда-то взглянула
Я на свою теперешнюю жизнь,
Узнала бы я зависть наконец...

DISMISS ME............ (translation)

I supposed that only you are the white day without rain,
But the tears are on your visage,
And I would say you are not mine, not mine,
But you don't dismiss me...
I supposed that only you are the quiet night without stars,
But your bright eyes are shining,
And I would say you are just a dream, just a dream,
But you don't dismiss me...

Dismiss me, I'm begging dismiss me
Cause I can't go further,
Dismiss me, I'm begging dismiss me,
I don't want to go any more.

And I supposed that only you are the petal in spring,
But you won't ever droop
And I would say you are mine, you are not mine...

Dismiss me, I'm begging dismiss me
Cause I can't go further,
Dismiss me, I'm begging dismiss me,
I don't want to go any more.

WHEN I GO ALONE AT NIGHT by Rabindranath Tagore

When I go alone at night to my love-tryst, birds do not sing, the wind does not stir, the houses on both sides of the street stand silent.
It is my own anklets that grow loud at every step and I am ashamed.

When I sit on my balcony and listen for his footsteps, leaves do not rustle on the trees, and the water is still in the river like the sword on the knees of a sentry fallen asleep.
It is my own heart that beats wildly -- I do not know how to quiet it.

When my love comes and sits by my side, when my body trembles and my eyelids droop, the night darkens, the wind blows out the lamp, and the clouds draw veils over the stars.
It is the jewel at my own breast that shines and gives light. I do not know how to hide it.

THE TAME BIRD WAS IN A CAGE by Rabindranath Tagore

The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to the wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the caged bird, "I should not know where to sit perched in the sky."

The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands."
The cage bird sings, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands."

There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."

ПОСЛЕДНЯЯ ПОЭМА (LAST POEM by Rabindranath Tagore)

Ветер, ты старые ивы развей...
Нет мне дороги в мой брошенный край...
Если увидеть пытаешься издали,
Не разглядишь меня, Друг мой, прощай...

Я уплываю, и время несет меня с края на край земли...
C берега к берегу, с отмели к отмели, Друг мой прощай...
Знаю когда-нибудь, с дальнего берега давнего прошлого,
Ветер вечерний ночной принесет Тебе вздох от меня...

Ты погляди, не осталось ли что-нибудь после меня...
В полночь забвенья на поздней окраине жизни моей.
Ты погляди без отчаянья, Ты погляди без отчаянья...

Вспыхнет ли, примет ли облик безвестного образа -
Будто случайного...
Это не сон,
Это вся Правда моя, это Истина,
Смерть побеждающая, Вечный Закон - это Любовь моя...

Анна Ахматова "ЕСТЬ ТРИ ЭПОХИ У ВОСПОМИНАНИЙ" (THERE ARE THREE EPOCHES IN REMEMBRANCES by Anna Akhmatova)

Есть три эпохи у воспоминаний.
И первая - как бы вчерашний день.
Душа под сводом их благословенным,
И тело в их блаженствует тени.
Еще не замер смех, струятся слезы,
Пятно чернил не стерто со стола -
И, как печать на сердце, поцелуй,
Единственный, прощальный, незабвенный...
Но это продолжается недолго...
Уже не свод над головой, а где-то
В глухом предместье дом уединенный,
Где холодно зимой, а летом жарко,
Где есть паук и пыль на всем лежит,
Где истлевают пламенные письма,
Исподтишка меняются портреты,
Куда как на могилу ходят люди,
А возвратившись, моют руки с мылом,
И стряхивают беглую слезинку
С усталых век - и тяжело вздыхают...
Но тикают часы, весна сменяет
Одна другую, розовеет небо,
Меняются названья городов,
И нет уже свидетелей событий,
И не с кем плакать, не с кем вспоминать.
И медленно от нас уходят тени,
Которых мы уже не призываем,
Возврат которых был бы страшен нам.
И, раз проснувшись, видим, что забыли
Мы даже путь в тот дом уединенный,
И задыхаясь от стыда и гнева,
Бежим туда, но (как во сне бывает)
Там все другое: люди, вещи, стены,
И нас никто не знает - мы чужие.
Мы не туда попали... Боже мой!
И вот когда горчайшее приходит:
Мы сознаем, что не могли б вместить
То прошлое в границы нашей жизни,
И нам оно почти что так же чуждо,
Как нашему соседу по квартире,
Что тех, кто умер, мы бы не узнали,
А те, с кем нам разлуку Бог послал,
Прекрасно обошлись без нас - и даже
Все к лучшему...

Раздень меня от суеты (Undress the vanity from me) by Lidiya Chuplyak

Раздень меня от суеты,
Сними с меня воспоминания,
Пьяней от этой простоты
И поделись своим желаньем.
Побудь со мной хоть несколько мгновений
И хочешь- можешь просто помолчать,
Только скажи, что в нашей жизни всё без изменений,
А эта пауза- лишь молчаливый жизненный этап.
Я понимаю, что независимый ты слишком,
Не хочешь показать ты слабости свои,
Не закрывайся от меня ты слишком,
Хочу быть тихой гаванью твоей.

************************************************

Undress the vanity from me,

Take off my memories.

Get drunk from this simplicity

And share your passion.

Come here for a moment

And if you want- don't talk at all,

Just tell me - there is no change

And our pause is just a silent stage of life.

You're way too independent

To show your weakness,

But please don't lock yourself from me

And I'll become your quiet harbor.

LION IN AN IRON CAGE by Nazım Hıkmet Ran

Look at the lion in the iron cage,
look deep into his eyes:
like two naked steel daggers
they sparkle with anger.
But he never loses his dignity
although his anger
comes and goes
goes and comes

You couldn't find a place for a collar
round his thick, furry mane.
Although the scars of a whip
still burn on his yellow back
his long legs
stretch and end
in the shape of two copper claws.
The hairs on his mane rise one by one
around his proud head.
His hatred
comes and goes
goes and comes ...

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU (translation)...Я ТЕБЯ НИКОГДА НЕ ЗАБУДУ.

You will awake me on a daybreak,
You will go out barefoot to lead me.
You will never forget me,
You will never see me.

Shielding you from a chill,
I will think: "Almightly God!"
I will never forget you,
I will never see you.

This river in ants of a chill,
This admiralty and exchange
I will never forget again
And will never see again.

Hopeless brown cherries are
Not swishing, watering from the wind,
To come back is a bad sign
And I will never see you.

Couple of phrases, reaching from here,
Will swing by insensate highness,
I will never forget you
And I will never see you.


Ты меня на рассвете разбудишь,
Проводить необутая выйдешь,
Ты меня никогда не забудешь,
Ты меня никогда не увидишь.

Заслонивши тебя от простуды,
Я подумаю: "Боже всевышний!",
Я тебя никогда не забуду,
Я тебя никогда не увижу.

Эту реку в мурашках простуды,
Это адмиралтейство и биржу
Я уже никогда не забуду
И уже никогда не увижу.

Hе мигают, слезятся от ветра
Безнадежные карие вишни.
Возвращаться - плохая примета,
Я тебя никогда не увижу.

И качнутся бессмысленной высью
Пара фраз, залетвеших отсюда,
Я тебя никогда не увижу,
Я тебя никогда не забуду.

Осень в моей душе (The autumn in my soul) by Lidiya Chuplyak

На улице давно уж осень...

И птицы улетели в тёплые края,

Вздрогнув от холода, войду я в осень,

Вот... покатилась мимовольная слеза...

Как трудно мне любить свою мечту,

Ещё трудней с ней расставаться,

И не смогу я без неё прожить

И против воли надо расставаться.

Я сберегу всё в памяти моей,

Хочу любить её, лелеять, называть своей,

Пусть просто я пройду по краешку её

И прикоснусь рукой однажды.......

SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SUMMER...(translation)

I don't know how to begin the letter to you.
So much, everything in my soul, but I can't find the words.
Whole year passed insensibly
And another one is certainly with you,
But I don't ask the answer.
It is the usual story.

It was a small romance on the summer sea.
But I can't still forget
Those days on a warm beach
And a valedictory train station's boom.

Somewhere, somewhere you stayed forever
In the middle of the summer.
Somewhere, somewhere everything will come true,
But never with us.

I simply missed that far day.
But I don't even know why,
I send you this letter.
Maybe you will remember about me.

Somewhere, somewhere you stayed forever
In the middle of the summer.
Somewhere, somewhere everything will come true,
But never with us.

I will sit whole night near the window,
I will mention about you.
I will continue writing of my letter to the morning,
But I won't send it.

Somewhere, somewhere you stayed forever
In the middle of the summer.
Somewhere, somewhere everything will come true,
But never with us.

ТРИЧІ МЕНІ ЯВЛЯЛАСЯ ЛЮБОВ... Іван Франко (THREE TIMES THE LOVE APPEARED... Ivan Franko)

Тричі мені являлася любов.
Одна несміла, як лілея, біла,
З зітхання й мрій уткана, із обснов

Сріблястих, мов метелик, підлетіла.
Купав її в рожевих блисках май,
На пурпуровій хмарі вранці сіла

І бачила довкола рай і рай!
Вона була невинна, як дитина,
Пахуча, як розцвіло свіжий гай.

Явилась друга - гордая княгиня,
Бліда, мов місяць, тиха та смутна,
Таємна й недоступна, мов святиня.

Мене рукою зимною вона
Відсунула і шепнула таємно:
"Мені не жить, тож най умру одна!"

І мовчки щезла там, де вічно темно.
Явилась третя - женщина чи звір?
Глядиш на неї - і очам приємно,

Впивається її красою зір.
То разом страх бере, душа холоне,
І сила розпливається в простір.

Спершу я думав, що бокує, тоне
Десь в тіні, що на мене й не зирне,-
Та враз мов бухло полум'я червоне.

За саме серце вхопила мене,
Мов сфінкс, у душу кігтями вп'ялилась,
І смокче кров, і геть спокій жене.

Минали дні, я думав: наситилась,
Ослабне, щезне... Та дарма! Дарма!
Вона й мене на хвилю не пустилась,

Часом на груді моїй задріма,
Та кігтями не покида стискати;
То знов прокинесь, звільна підійма

Півсонні вії, мов боїться втрати,
І око в око зазира мені.
І дивні іскри починають грати

В її очах - такі яркі, страшні,
Жагою повні, що аж серце стисне.
І разом щось таке в них там на дні

Ворушиться солодке, мелодійне,
Що забуваю рани, біль і страх,
В марі тій бачу рай, добро єдине.

І дармо дух мій, мов у сіті птах,
Тріпочеться! Я чую, ясно чую,
Як стелиться мені в безодню шлях

І як я ним у пітьму помандрую.

INVITATION ("DAVET" by Nazım Hikmet Ran)

Galloping from Far Asia and jutting out
into the Mediterranean like a mare's head
this country is ours.
Wrists in blood, teeth clenched, feet bare
and this soil spreading like a silk carpet,
this hell, this paradise is ours.
Shut the gates of plutocracy, don't let them open again,
annihilate man's servitude to man,
this invitation is ours.
To live like a tree single and at liberty
and brotherly like the trees of a forest,
this yearning is ours.


Dörtnala gelip Uzak Asya'dan
Akdeniz'e bir kısrak başı gibi uzanan
bu memleket bizim.
Bilekler kan içinde, dişler kenetli, ayaklar çıplak
ve ipek bir halıya benzeyen toprak,
bu cehennem, bu cennet bizim.
Kapansın el kapıları, bir daha açılmasın,
yok edin insanın insana kulluğunu,
bu dâvet bizim.
Yaşamak bir ağaç gibi tek ve hür
ve bir orman gibi kardeşçesine,
bu hasret bizim.

THE GREEN POEM by Can Yücel

Translated by Feyyaz Kayacan Fergar

The more you look the more the stars multiply,
To count them you'll need more fingers than you have.
Some stars are audible, some are not,
The more you listen, the more you'll find in the night.
Sounds come,
Some come quickly, some take time.

Everything carries a voice of its own,
Even under the cover of darkness
the night keeps its colours going
in the branch of the tree, in the wind,
Every thing has a colour of its own.

He would wait under his closed eyelids.
Extending his leaf-like hands and palms,
he would wait till he could hear
the coming of the green
in the branch of the tree and in the wind.
He would then fall asleep in his dream.

MAN'S PRINCIPAL LAW by Can Yücel

Translated by Ruth Christie

This is man's law of the blood:
to make wine from the grape
to strike fire from the stone
and human beings from kisses

This is man's law of the soul:
no matter what happens
to live in the face of poverty and wars
and a thousand and one calamities!

This is man's law of reason:
to convert water to light
to render the dream true
to make the enemy a friend!

This is man's principal law
from the child on all fours
to the runner in space
to be always on course!

AND IN MY SOUL by Ahmet Erhan

"Ve Kalbimde,” Cagdas Yenilgiler Ansiklopedisi (1997). Ankara: Bilgi Yayinevi, pp. 86-88.

Translator : Suat Karantay



In my soul
Wagonfuls of
Scars
Should I start this poem
Or
Should I burn
All my papers
Riots erupt
In my heart
I go to work
On foot
I get home
On foot
If I close this notebook
I will be
Contented

Trains depart
From my mind
Bound for the unknown
Suicides
To no avail
Every evening
I meet
Myself
On the streets
In front of Gima
Everywhere
My loneliness
Keeps fuming
In the last drop of alcohol
I drag myself
Home

I thought just a while ago
There’s so much
I’ve lived
So many deaths
It’s time I closed
That notebook my son opened
Quietly
I must melt away
In my own downpour
I must set up
A library of death
Without fanfare
I must bid farewell
To my cat...

And
In my soul
Wagonfuls of
Scars...

ILLICIT LOVE by Attila Ilhan

“Yasak Sevismek”,1968. Ankara: Bilgi Yayinevi, pp. 29-30.
Translators: Suat Karantay, Sedat Cilingir

come through my other door you can’t open this one
come with your former eyes come at the time to kill
and be vigilant lest someone should follow you
I’ve been hiding in this house for a long time
I’ve changed my name they call me something else
day and night I’m wearing dark glasses
come through my other door you cannot open this one
come toward daybreak come with all your eyes
I am getting darker and darker behind the shutters
troubles engulf me and so does the Fall
I am unable to recognize your voice on the phone
your face flows and vanishes through my fingers
something fleeting something broken forever
come toward daybreak come with your former eyes
come through my other door you can’t open this one
and be vigilant lest someone should follow you

I no longer exist for anyone
they conjured my loves with enormous violins
my fears have been lonesome for eternity
I am a lonely verse is that why I am getting wet
a revolver completes my novel
the play is over they’ve turned off the lights
come as if you do not exist come at the time to kill
come through my other door you cannot open this one
they locked and sealed it from the outside
and be vigilant lest someone should follow you

FLOWER OF MISERY by Attila Ilhan

“Belâ Cicegi”, 1983. Ankara: Bilgi Yayinevi, p. 24.
Translators : Suat Karantay, Sedat Cilingir

exhausted they were at the alsancak train station
flower of misery in the night was the clock at the station
nothing existed but themselves
a treacherous trembling seized the man
his hands were torn they were handcuffed
his wife was carrying his bag

nobody knew who they were
flower of misery in the night was the clock at the station
they got on a third-class car
it became clear the man would go
they seemed to have given up something
try what he may he couldn’t look at his wife

standing they smoked cheap cigarettes
flower of misery in the night was the clock at the station
they had already fallen in solitude
past and future in darkness
suddenly they turned pale
quietly the cars began moving

Yellow leaves by Lidiya Chuplyak

I bathe in warmth of sun light,
My visage's touched by beams,
It's like your tender embrace,
Your embrace in my dreams.
You could be this warm sun light
And could be the rustle of these leaves,
I could be fresh autumn's air
And do not allow you to leave.
I will take yellow leaves in my palms
And disperse them under the wind,
I will keep everything in my memory,
I'll be safe every moment with you.

PRESENT ME THE LIGHT (translation)

I'm running toward the wind to the very ending of the earth
Where, I believe, something good stayed.
I don't know in which side my home is,
I don't know if I will come back there.
A thousand vital scenes are milling around,
Crashing rapidly in stones of time,
The dreams sleep me on the big distance
Reflactions of people which I didn't see long.
The home is waiting for you always by look in the window,
Dear eyes desire so the meeting with you.

Present the light...
Present me the light...
Present the light...

I wouldn't like to have absolutely everything
Giving something, don't expect anything.
At the end of the world I understood one thing,
It isn't possible to overtake all dreams in the life.
I was looking for what I had always,
But only now I saw it.

DELICATE (translation)

You are breathing so calmly in the sleep
I will touch, you won't feel.
You went away so many times, not coming back.
I will write the palm on the windows,
Recognize me in streams,
Trying to find your answer in my eyes.

Delicate, delicate, keeping the tears,
Whilom, whilom, still mine,
Delicate, delicate, touch by hand,
Whilom, whilom, with me forever.

The city is hitting by leaves in my face,
I will close my eyes in answer,
The minutes are flowing endlessly without you,
Under southern wind by simplicity
I will awake you by unnecessary call,
And will forget all my ways forever.

Delicate, delicate, keeping the tears,
Whilom, whilom, still mine,
Delicate, delicate, touch by hand,
Whilom, whilom, with me forever.

With me forever...

DESPITE...(translation)

The notebook is finished but the novelette isn't written
Forgive me, but...
The strophe is broken, it can be so in the life
What there will be I don't even know alone...

Yesterday is forgotten, no date, no name
Rescue me...
I, what I have - don't keep, lost - I cry
but everything is other in you...

I was looking for your ghostly trace every day
The love doesn't exist any more, run
Despite I'm here, I'm with you while the light is fading out
And your steps will fade away...

So, the notebook is finished,
You won't believe - I feel lightly, I feel so lightly.
I put it to the fire, torrifying my fingers
I forgive you and dismiss.

I was looking for your ghostly trace every day
The love doesn't exist any more, run
Despite...

WE ARE NOT...(translation)

The day goes away insensibly
We dismiss our shadow on the light, on the light,
We don't care about what there is for the window,
Our minds are only about one, about one
We are not, we are not...

We are not simply for all,
The phone is turning off,
The trace of hope is in the eyes,
Semitone of confessions,
The weariness of the fire and the silhouette of shadows,
The depth of silence,
We are not simply for all...

This night is only for both us,
It will remember us by names
I don't hurry the minutes
I catch you desire
Love you, love...

We are not simply for all,
The phone is turning off,
The trace of hope is in the eyes,
Semitone of confessions,
The weariness of the fire and the silhouette of shadows,
The depth of silence,
We are not simply for all...

"LILI" by Taras Shevchenko, translated from original poem from Ukrainian

"For what people didn't love me when I was growing?
For what they killed me young when I had grown up ?
For what they greet me now in chambers,
Calling czarivna, not taking their eyes from my bloom?...
They are wondering, don't know what to do!
Tell me, my brother, bloom of the king!"
"I don't know, my sister".
And king's bloom diped his red-rose head
To white drooping visage of Lily.
And Lily cried by dew-tear...
Cried and told:
"My brother, we love already each other long,
But I didn't even tell, when I was a human,
How I was tantalizing.

My mother... wherefore she,
She was sorrowful
And looking at me, child,
Looking, looking and crying.
I don't know,
My sole brother!
Who did the evil her?
I was a child,
I was playing, larking,
But she was fading
And cursing our angry pan
Cursing and execrating .
And died... But pan
Took me to feed.
I grew up, fostered
In the white chambers.
I didn't know that
I am a bastard,
That I am his child.
Pan went somewhere far,
And left me.
And people cursed him,
Burned his house...
And me, I don't know for what,
To kill - didn't kill,
Only they cut my long plaits,
Covered by rag,
And they snickered too.
Cursed Hebrews were even spitting on me.
Here so, my brother,
Was me in the world.
People didn't give me
To live my young short age.
I died under a fence in the winter,
I blossomed near valley in the spring,
By white bloom as white snow!
Even a thicket rejoiced.
People in the winter... my God!
Didn't let me in the hut.
But in the spring they were looking at me as on a miracle.
And the girls adorned
And have begun to call me Lily-Snowbloom;
And I've begun to blossomIn a thicket, and in a conservatory,
And in the white chambers.
Tell me, my brother, bloom of the king:
For what reason God created me
As bloom on this world?
To jollify the people,
Those people who killed
Me and my mother?... Charitable,
Saint God, pleasant!"
And Lily cried,
And king's bloom dipped his red-rose head
To white drooping visage of Lily.

I WILL BECOME THE SEA.........(translation)

Don't hold me, don't don't hold
I will escape from your embrace all the same
I will decline from charm both of my hands
I will fly away, fly away...

As the river is flowing, so
I will escape for the limit
Dismiss me, I'll become the sea...
One more last moment, and I am not ...
I am like the river,
Which will become the sea...

The snow is melting in my palms as the time...
I belonged to you, you were only mine,
But your love is like a rain, that was founding
And it isn't already, it isn't...

As the river is flowing, so
I will escape for the limit
Dismiss me, I'll become the sea
One more last moment, and I am not...