Tiếng Anh

Medicines

I saw a rela lemon again.
Ania brought it back from France.
She’d been wondering: come home or stay abroad?
And come to think of it, what keeps her here—
a few faces, a few words, this anxiety?
The lemon was yellow, it looked like the real thing.
You didn’t have to put it in the window
to ripen alongside our pale tomatoes.
Or as we ourselves ripen
growing up and growing yellow over years.
No, it was already entirely itself
190 I CHICAGO REVIEW
when she brought it, not even yellow, but gold,
and a little rough, so I took it gratefully.
I want to wrap myself in the thick skin of the world,
I want to be tart, but good-tasting—
some child swallows me reluctantly
and I help to cure his cold.

Lighter, darker

I ask questions
yet eventually I should be giving answers.
I don’t know who I’m directing them to
or if I’m directing them to anyone at all.
I hear how the child calls out in sleep—
for seven years, each year, these dreams
are more and more intense,
the calling becomes a shout,
the shouts grow more assertive.
I think too slowly, I feel faster.
An obsession for precision, after a few years’ experience,
stops being tiring, boring and obtrusive.
Shreds of plot come by themselves
and arrange themselves in the right order,
precisely—not at all the way it was.
The device for asking questions,
the privilege of immaturity,
sputters, stops, and falls asleep.
I wake up staring at the family screen
where one dream-frame has frozen.

What was unacceptable’s
becoming acceptable.

For free we live, for free
The air is free, the clouds are for free,
Valleys and hills for free,
The rain, the mud, for free,
The outside of cars,
The doors of the cinemas
The shopwindows, for free.
Bread and butter aren't but, stale water is for free,
Freedom can cost your head
Captivity is free
For free we live, for free

I am listening to Istanbul

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
At first there blows a gentle breeze
And the leaves on the trees
Softly flutter or sway;
Out there, far away,
The bells of water carriers incessantly ring;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Then suddenly birds fly by,
Flocks of birds, high up, in a hue and cry
While nets are drawn in the fishing grounds
And a woman’s feet begin to dabble in the water.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
The Grand Bazaar is serene and cool,
A hubbub at the hub of the market,
Mosque yards are brimful of pigeons,
At the docks while hammers bang and clang
Spring winds bear the smell of sweat;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Still giddy since bygone bacchanals,
A seaside mansion with dingy boathouses is fast asleep,
Amid the din and drone of southern winds, reposed,
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
Now a dainty girl walks by on the sidewalk:
Cusswords, tunes and songs, malapert remarks;
Something falls on the ground out of her hand,
It’s a rose I guess.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
A bird flutters round your skirt;
I know your brow is moist with sweat
And your lips are wet.
A silver moon rises beyond the pine trees:
I can sense it all in your heart’s throbbing.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

ALL OF A SUDDEN

  Everything happened all of a sudden.
   All of a sudden daylight beat down on the earth;
    There was the sky all of a sudden;
   All of a sudden steam began to rise from the soil.
There were tendrils all of a sudden, buds all of a sudden.
       And there were fruits all of a sudden.
   All of a sudden,
   All of a sudden,
     Girls all of a sudden, boys all of a sudden.
     Roads, moors, cats, people...
         And there was love all of a sudden,
      Happiness all of a sudden.

TAIL SONG

We can't come together, our ways are different
You're a butcher's cat, I'm an alley cat
Your food comes in a tin bowl
Mine is in the lion's mouth
You dream of love, I of a bone

But your way isn't easy either, brother
It's no easy job
To lick the man's hand every damn day

FREE

We live free
Air is free, clouds are free
Valleys and hills are free
Rain and mud are free
The outside of cars
The entrances of cinemas
And the shop windows are free
Bread and cheese cost money
But stale water is free
Freedom can cost your head
But prison is free
We live free

SADNESS

I might have got angry
With those I love
If love
Hadn't taught me
To be sad.

The Song of Istanbul

In Istanbul, on the Bosphorus,
I am poor Orhan Veli;
I am the son of Veli
With indescribable sadness.
I am sitting by the shore of Rumeli,
I am sitting and singing a song:
``The marble hills of Istanbul,
Landing on my head, oh, landing are the sea gulls;
Hot, homesick tears fill
My eyes,
My Eda,
Full or airs, my Karma,
the fountain salt
Of all my tears.
In the middle of Istanbul movie houses,
My mother won't hear of my exile;
Others kiss
And tell
And make love,
but what's that to me?
My lover,
My fever,
oh, my bubonic river.
In Istanbul, on the Bosphorus,
I am the stranger Orhan Veli,
The son of Veli
With indescribable sadness.

For This Country

What haven't we done for our country?
Some of us died
Some of us gave public speeches.