Monthly Archives: April 2006

a cold day in Riva beach

riva village, istanbul, pentax k10d

riva village, istanbul, pentax k10d

a cold day in Riva beach

riva beach and riva village, blacksea region of istanbul, pentax k10d

riva beach and riva village, blacksea region of istanbul, pentax k10d

taken by Pentax K10D, at Istanbul

Riva river, Not one returns to tell us of the Road, Which to discover we must travel too.

Riva river in Riva village, blacksea region of istanbul, pentax k10d

Riva river in Riva village, blacksea region of istanbul, pentax k10d

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

57

Ah, but my Computations, People say,
Reduced the Year to better reckoning?-Nay,
‘Twas only striking from the Calendar
Unborn To-morrow and dead Yesterday.

58

And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,
Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape
Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and
He bid me taste of it; and ’twas-the Grape!

59

The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice
Life’s leaden metal into Gold transmute:

60

The mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing Lord,
That all the misbelieving and black Horde
Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul
Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword.

61

Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare
Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare?
A Blessing, we should use it, should we not?
And if a Curse-why, then, who set it there?

62

I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must,
Scared by some After-reckoning ta’en on trust,
Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink,
To fill the Cup-when crumbled into Dust!

63

Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain-This life flies;
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.

64

Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who
Before us pass’d the door of Darkness through,
Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too.

Omer Hayyam
by Edward FitzGerald

Riva, Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small

Riva shore, Blacksea, pentax k10d

Riva shore, Blacksea, pentax k10d

Riva shore and blacksea. taken by Pentax K10D, at Istanbul

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

81

Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
And ev’n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken’d-Man’s forgiveness give-and take!

82

As under cover of departing Day
Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazan away,
Once more within the Potter’s house alone
I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay.

83

Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small,
That stood along the floor and by the wall;
And some loquacious Vessels were; and some
Listen’d perhaps, but never talk’d at all.

84

Said one among them-”Surely not in vain
“My substance of the common Earth was ta’en
“And to this Figure moulded, to be broke,
“Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again.”

85

Then said a Second-”Ne’er a peevish Boy
“Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy;
“And He that with his hand the Vessel made
“Will surely not in after Wrath destroy.”

86

After a momentary silence spake
Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make;
“They sneer at me for leaning all awry:
“What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?”

87

Whereat some one of the loquacious Lot-
I think a Sufi pipkin-waxing hot-
“All this of Pot and Potter-Tell me, then,
“Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?”

88

“Why,” said another, “Some there are who tell
“Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell
“The luckless Pots he marr’d in making-Pish!
“He’s a Good Fellow, and ‘t will all be well.”

Omer Hayyam

by Edward FitzGerald

To countless lovers I have been A guide for faith and religion.

Riva beach

Riva beach

Riva shore and Blacksea.  taken by Pentax K10D, at Istanbul

I am before, I am after

I am before, I am after
The soul for all souls all the way.
I’m the one with a helping hand
Ready for those gone wild, astray.

I made the ground flat where it lies,
On it I had those mountains rise,
I designed the vault of the skies,
For I hold all things in my sway.

To countless lovers I have been
A guide for faith and religion.
I am sacrilege in men’s hearts
Also the true faith and Islam’s way.

I make men love peace and unite;
Putting down the black words on white,
I wrote the four holy books right
I’m the Koran for those who pray.

It’s not Yunus who says all this:
It speaks its own realities:
To doubt this would be blasphemous:
“I’m before-I’m after,” I say.

Yunus Emre

About Yunus Emre
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Yunus Emre (1238?–1320?) was a Turkish poet and Sufi mystic. He has exercised immense influence on Turkish literature, from his own day until the present. Because Yunus Emre is, after Ahmet Yesevi and Sultan Veled, one of the first known Turkish poets to have composed works in the spoken Turkish of his own age and region rather than in Persian or Arabic, his diction remains very close to the popular speech of his contemporaries in Central and Western Anatolia. This is also, it should be noted, the language of a number of anonymous folk-poets, folk-songs, fairy tales, riddles (tekerlemeler), and proverbs.

Like the Oghuz language Book of Dede Korkut, an older and anonymous Central Asian epic, the Turkish folklore that inspired Yunus Emre in his occasional use of tekerlemeler as a poetic device had been handed down orally to him and his contemporaries. This strictly oral tradition continued for a long while.[1]

Following the Mongol invasion of Anatolia facilitated by the Seljuk Turkish defeat at the 1243 Karaman, Islamic mystic literature thrived in Anatolia, and Yunus Emre became one of its most distinguished poets. He is one of the first poets known by name to have composed extensively in the Turkish language and his poems—despite being fairly simple on the surface—evidence his skill in describing quite abstruse mystical concepts in a clear way. He remains a popular figure in a number of countries, stretching from Azerbaijan to the Balkans, with seven different and widely dispersed localities disputing the privilege of having his tomb within their boundaries.

His poems, written in the tradition of Anatolian folk poetry, mainly concern divine love as well as human destiny:

Yunus’dürür benim adım
Gün geçtikçe artar odum
İki cihanda maksûdum
Bana seni gerek seni.[2]

Yunus Emre the mystic is my name,
Each passing day fans and rouses my flame,
What I desire in both worlds is the same:
You’re the one I need, you’re the one I crave.[3]

References

1. ^ Edouard Roditi. “Western and Eastern Themes in the Poetry of Yunus Emre”, Journal of Comparative Poetics, No. 5, The Mystical Dimension in Literature (Spring, 1985), p. 27
2. ^ Cevdet Kudret. Yunus Emre. Ankara: İnkılâp Kitabevi, 2003. ISBN 975-10-2006-9, p. 58
3. ^ Grace Martin Smith. The Poetry of Yūnus Emre, A Turkish Sufi Poet. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1993. ISBN 0-520-09781-5, p. 124

To countless lovers I have been A guide for faith and religion.

Riva beach

Riva beach

Riva shore and Blacksea.  taken by Pentax K10D, at Istanbul

I am before, I am after

I am before, I am after
The soul for all souls all the way.
I’m the one with a helping hand
Ready for those gone wild, astray.

I made the ground flat where it lies,
On it I had those mountains rise,
I designed the vault of the skies,
For I hold all things in my sway.

To countless lovers I have been
A guide for faith and religion.
I am sacrilege in men’s hearts
Also the true faith and Islam’s way.

I make men love peace and unite;
Putting down the black words on white,
I wrote the four holy books right
I’m the Koran for those who pray.

It’s not Yunus who says all this:
It speaks its own realities:
To doubt this would be blasphemous:
“I’m before-I’m after,” I say.

Yunus Emre

About Yunus Emre
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Yunus Emre (1238?–1320?) was a Turkish poet and Sufi mystic. He has exercised immense influence on Turkish literature, from his own day until the present. Because Yunus Emre is, after Ahmet Yesevi and Sultan Veled, one of the first known Turkish poets to have composed works in the spoken Turkish of his own age and region rather than in Persian or Arabic, his diction remains very close to the popular speech of his contemporaries in Central and Western Anatolia. This is also, it should be noted, the language of a number of anonymous folk-poets, folk-songs, fairy tales, riddles (tekerlemeler), and proverbs.

Like the Oghuz language Book of Dede Korkut, an older and anonymous Central Asian epic, the Turkish folklore that inspired Yunus Emre in his occasional use of tekerlemeler as a poetic device had been handed down orally to him and his contemporaries. This strictly oral tradition continued for a long while.[1]

Following the Mongol invasion of Anatolia facilitated by the Seljuk Turkish defeat at the 1243 Karaman, Islamic mystic literature thrived in Anatolia, and Yunus Emre became one of its most distinguished poets. He is one of the first poets known by name to have composed extensively in the Turkish language and his poems—despite being fairly simple on the surface—evidence his skill in describing quite abstruse mystical concepts in a clear way. He remains a popular figure in a number of countries, stretching from Azerbaijan to the Balkans, with seven different and widely dispersed localities disputing the privilege of having his tomb within their boundaries.

His poems, written in the tradition of Anatolian folk poetry, mainly concern divine love as well as human destiny:

Yunus’dürür benim adım
Gün geçtikçe artar odum
İki cihanda maksûdum
Bana seni gerek seni.[2]

Yunus Emre the mystic is my name,
Each passing day fans and rouses my flame,
What I desire in both worlds is the same:
You’re the one I need, you’re the one I crave.[3]

References

1. ^ Edouard Roditi. “Western and Eastern Themes in the Poetry of Yunus Emre”, Journal of Comparative Poetics, No. 5, The Mystical Dimension in Literature (Spring, 1985), p. 27
2. ^ Cevdet Kudret. Yunus Emre. Ankara: İnkılâp Kitabevi, 2003. ISBN 975-10-2006-9, p. 58
3. ^ Grace Martin Smith. The Poetry of Yūnus Emre, A Turkish Sufi Poet. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1993. ISBN 0-520-09781-5, p. 124

Local heros

Red Bulls Local Heros event in Sirkeci Railway Station, Istanbul, Pentax K10d

Red Bull's Local Heros event in Sirkeci Railway Station, Istanbul, Pentax K10d

Local heros

Red Bulls Local Heros event in Sirkeci Railway Station, Istanbul, Pentax K10d

Red Bull's Local Heros event in Sirkeci Railway Station, Istanbul, Pentax K10d

riva castle , Before the phantom of False morning died

Riva Castle, Pentax K10D

Riva Castle, Pentax K10D

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

I

Wake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flight
The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
Drives Night along with them from Heav’n, and strikes
T’he Sultans Turret with a Shaft of Light.

2

Before the phantom of False morning died,
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
“When all the Temple is prepared within,
“Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside?”

3

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted-”Open then the Door!
“You know how little while we have to stay,
“And, once departed, may return no more.”

4

Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

5

Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
And Jamshyd’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where no one knows;
But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows.

6

And David’s Lips are lockt; but in divine
High-piping Pehlevi, with “Wine! Wine! Wine!
“Red Wine!”-the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That sallow cheek of hers to incarnadine.

7

Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter-and the Bird is on the Wing.

8

Whether at Naishapur or Babylon,
Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,
The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,
The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.

Omet Hayyam

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
by Edward FitzGerald

Walking in the beach

istanbul