Riva village

Riva village

“Hold back the edges of your gowns, Ladies, we are going through hell.”

William Carlos Williams

purple tulips, Everybody knows it’s coming apart

purple tulips, istanbul tulip festival, istanbul, pentax k10d

I’m Your Man

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died

Everybody talking to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
Everybody knows

Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that you’ve been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows you’ve been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows

And everybody knows that it’s now or never
Everybody knows that it’s me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when you’ve done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old Black Joe’s still pickin’ cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows

And everybody knows that the Plague is coming
Everybody knows that it’s moving fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows the scene is dead
But there’s gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose
What everybody knows

And everybody knows that you’re in trouble
Everybody knows what you’ve been through
From the bloody cross on top of Calvary
To the beach of Malibu
Everybody knows it’s coming apart
Take one last look at this Sacred Heart
Before it blows
And everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows

Oh everybody knows, everybody knows
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows

Everybody knows

Leonard Cohen
(co-written by Sharon Robinson)

a restaurant from sogukcesme street

Only from the heart Can you touch the sky.

yellow tulips and white tulip, istanbul tulip festival, istanbul, pentax k10d

“Only from the heart Can you touch the sky.” Mevlana

Not Like This Before

I wasn’t like this before. I wasn’t out of my mind and senses.
Once I used to be wise like you, not crazy, insane and broken down like I am now.

I wasn’t the admirer of life which has no trace, no being.
I used to ask : “Who is this?
What is that?,”
and search all the time.

Since you have wisdom,
sit and think
that probably I was like this before.
I haven’t changed much.

I used to try
to make myself better than everybody.
I hadn’t been hunted
with the ever-growing Love before.

I tried to rise above the sky
with my ambition
yet I didn’t know.
I was just wandering in the desert.
At the end,
I have raised a treasure from the ground.

Mevlana

Divani Shamsi Tarbrizi, from “Magnificent One”, by Nevit Orguz Ergin.

taken by Pentax K10D, at Istanbul

blacksea, where we can’t see, the moon must be rising.

Blacksea scene with seagulls, Istanbul, Pentax K10D

Hymn To Life

The hair falling on your forehead
suddenly lifted.
Suddenly something stirred on the ground.
The trees are whispering
in the dark.
Your bare arms will be cold.

Far off
where we can’t see,
the moon must be rising.
It hasn’t reached us yet,
slipping through the leaves
to light up your shoulder.
But I know
a wind comes up with the moon.
The trees are whispering.
Your bare arms will be cold.

From above,
from the branches lost in the dark,
something dropped at your feet.
You moved closer to me.
Under my hand your bare flesh is like the fuzzy skin of a fruit.
Neither a song of the heart nor “common sense”–
before the trees, birds, and insects,
my hand on my wife’s flesh
is thinking.
Tonight my hand
can’t read or write.
Neither loving nor unloving…
It’s the tongue of a leopard at a spring,
a grape leaf,
a wolf’s paw.
To move, breathe, eat, drink.
My hand is like a seed
splitting open underground.
Neither a song of the heart nor “common sense,”
neither loving nor unloving.
My hand thinking on my wife’s flesh
is the hand of the first man.
Like a root that finds water underground,
it says to me:
“To eat, drink, cold, hot, struggle, smell, color–
not to live in order to die
but to die to live…”

And now
as red female hair blows across my face,
as something stirs on the ground,
as the trees whisper in the dark,
and as the moon rises far off
where we can’t see,
my hand on my wife’s flesh
before the trees, birds, and insects,
I want the right of life,
of the leopard at the spring, of the seed splitting open–
I want the right of the first man.

Nazim Hikmet

Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)

black tulips, We’re both of us beneath our love, we’re both of us above

black tulip , istanbul tulip festival, istanbul, pentax k10d

Dance Me To The End Of Love

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic ’til I’m gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We’re both of us beneath our love, we’re both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I’m gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Leonard Cohen

Of course, we won’t hear those songs

yellow tulips and black tulips, istanbul tulip festival, istanbul, pentax k10d

Last Will And Testament
Comrades, if I don’t live to see the day
— I mean,if I die before freedom comes —
take me away
and bury me in a village cemetery in Anatolia.

The worker Osman whom Hassan Bey ordered shot
can lie on one side of me, and on the other side
the martyr Aysha, who gave birth in the rye
and died inside of forty days.

Tractors and songs can pass below the cemetery —
in the dawn light, new people, the smell of burnt gasoline,
fields held in common, water in canals,
no drought or fear of the police.

Of course, we won’t hear those songs:
the dead lie stretched out underground
and rot like black branches,
deaf, dumb, and blind under the earth.

But, I sang those songs
before they were written,
I smelled the burnt gasoline
before the blueprints for the tractors were drawn.

As for my neighbors,
the worker Osman and the martyr Aysha,
they felt the great longing while alive,
maybe without even knowing it.

Comrades, if I die before that day, I mean
— and it’s looking more and more likely —
bury me in a village cemetery in Anatolia,
and if there’s one handy,
a plane tree could stand at my head,
I wouldn’t need a stone or anything.

Moscow, Barviha Hospital

Nazim Hikmet

Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)

red tulips, I stand in the advancing light, my hands hungry, the world beautiful.

red tulips, istanbul tulip festival, istanbul, pentax k10d

It’s This Way
I stand in the advancing light,
my hands hungry, the world beautiful.

My eyes can’t get enough of the trees–
they’re so hopeful, so green.

A sunny road runs through the mulberries,
I’m at the window of the prison infirmary.

I can’t smell the medicines–
carnations must be blooming nearby.

It’s this way:
being captured is beside the point,
the point is not to surrender.

Nazim Hikmet

Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)

Riva beach in our footprints

Riva beach and Riva Castle, Blacksea region of Istanbul, pentax k10d

taken by Pentax K10D, at Istanbul

“It is at the edge of a petal that love waits.”

William Carlos Williams

Aksaray Valide Sultan Mosque (Valide Sultan Camii)