Más tarde te creí, más tarde hubo razones, hubo madame Léonie que mirándome la mano que había dormido con tus senos me repitió casi tus mismas palabras. «Ella sufre en alguna parte. Siempre ha sufrido. Es muy alegre, adora el amarillo, su pájaro es el mirlo, su hora la noche, su puente el Pont des Arts.»
...
Bayan Léoine örneğin, elime baktı, senin göğüslerinin üstünde uyuyakalmış ellerimin içine ve bana ne dediysen tek tek okudu elimden: " Kentin bir yerlerinde, bir kadın, acı çekiyor. Hep acı çekmiş zaten. Çok neşeli biri bu; sarı renge bayılan bir kadın, en çok sevdiği kuş, ardıç kuşu; en sevdiği saat, gece; en sevdiği köprü Pont-des-Arts." dedi.
...
Y mirá que apenas nos conocíamos y ya la vida urdía lo necesario para desencontrarnos minuciosamente. Como no sabías disimular me di cuenta en seguida de que para verte como yo quería era necesario empezar por cerrar los ojos, y entonces primero cosas como estrellas amarillas (moviéndose en una jalea de terciopelo), luego saltos rojos del humor y de las horas, ingreso paulatino en un mundo-Maga que era la torpeza y la confusión pero también helechos con la firma de la araña Klee, el circo Miró, los espejos de ceniza Vieira da Silva, un mundo donde te movías como un caballo de ajedrez que se moviera como una torre que se moviera como un alfil.
...
Saklı - gizli tutamadığımdan hiçbir şeyi, hemen anladım, seni istediğim gibi görmem için, önce gözlerimi kapatmam gerekiyordu, o zaman sarı yıldızlar çıkıyor ortaya, sonra yaradılışının kızıl renkteki sıçrayışları, saatlerin atılımı, senin dünyanın ağır yaklaşımı, anlaşmazlıklar ve beceriksizlikler, ama bir o kadar da karmaşık bir dünya, altında örümcek Klee'nin imzası, Miró'nun sirk dünyası, Vieira da Silva küllerinden doğan ve senden yansıyanlar, bir dünya ki sen atının üstünde bozgundan bozguna, kule gibi bir dünyada deliler gibi koşturup durmuşsun.
18.8.16
So it looks more like hell to me
When I was young and scared of the Lord
My mother would sing me a song
A tune that I keep in a sacred place
Because I know that my life won't be long
It tells of the place where you go
when your time here on earth is through
A beautiful place
We call heaven
Is it true
Please God I pray that it's true
'Cause once this land was heaven on earth
Green hills were all you could see
But now it's soot and steel and brick
So it looks more like hell to me
And each day brings more and more suffering
And each night is silence and fear
And I wake to the sound of your voice
But you're not here
Why aren't you here?
So now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
Please let me die before I wake
So the Lord my soul, can take
Then maybe I'll finally find you
'Midst the beauty of paradise
And you'll sing not of dying but living
Wouldn't that be nice?
Wouldn't that be nice?
My mother would sing me a song
A tune that I keep in a sacred place
Because I know that my life won't be long
It tells of the place where you go
when your time here on earth is through
A beautiful place
We call heaven
Is it true
Please God I pray that it's true
'Cause once this land was heaven on earth
Green hills were all you could see
But now it's soot and steel and brick
So it looks more like hell to me
And each day brings more and more suffering
And each night is silence and fear
And I wake to the sound of your voice
But you're not here
Why aren't you here?
So now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
Please let me die before I wake
So the Lord my soul, can take
Then maybe I'll finally find you
'Midst the beauty of paradise
And you'll sing not of dying but living
Wouldn't that be nice?
Wouldn't that be nice?
30.5.16
Faydalar faydasız, imkanlar imkansız
Geceleri yanınızda bir şövalyeniz yoksa ayakucunuzda bir kedi uyumalı.
3.5.16
An allegory for the racket knocking at my door
I hear the bells I hear the wind
I hear a song in my heart again
In the tenderness moves all things
Like a poltergeist in the streets
It's a silly rush that I used to get
Singing Billie or reading Vonnegut
I could teleport to the stars
Kinda strange that I'm all alone
Cause you really hold me down like that
Cause you really know what's down like that
Like the universe is singing a song
Do you feel it when you write like that?
Do you feel it cause you're down like that?
Like the universe is singing a song
It's just a story though
Is it a story though?
I can't tell if it happened cause it felt impossible
Don't know whether it was real or a dream
Imagination playing tricks on me
Now tell me what you know
Is this a story or
An allegory for the racket knocking at my door?
What's the difference if it's real or a dream?
Imagination playing tricks on me
What's the difference in my love or scheme?
The difference in what you say what you mean?
What you mean you don't really know?
I'm losing touch with the physical
I'm showing up in the future like I've been here before
Ain't that a story though?
Like you ain't even know
Somebody switching the digits up on my Casio
Don't know whether this is real or a dream
Imagination playing tricks on me
I hear a song in my heart again
In the tenderness moves all things
Like a poltergeist in the streets
It's a silly rush that I used to get
Singing Billie or reading Vonnegut
I could teleport to the stars
Kinda strange that I'm all alone
Cause you really hold me down like that
Cause you really know what's down like that
Like the universe is singing a song
Do you feel it when you write like that?
Do you feel it cause you're down like that?
Like the universe is singing a song
It's just a story though
Is it a story though?
I can't tell if it happened cause it felt impossible
Don't know whether it was real or a dream
Imagination playing tricks on me
Now tell me what you know
Is this a story or
An allegory for the racket knocking at my door?
What's the difference if it's real or a dream?
Imagination playing tricks on me
What's the difference in my love or scheme?
The difference in what you say what you mean?
What you mean you don't really know?
I'm losing touch with the physical
I'm showing up in the future like I've been here before
Ain't that a story though?
Like you ain't even know
Somebody switching the digits up on my Casio
Don't know whether this is real or a dream
Imagination playing tricks on me
27.4.16
Her ayrıntım sayıklıyor
I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.
I like to think
(right now, please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.
I like to think
(it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.
I like to think
(right now, please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.
I like to think
(it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace
26.4.16
Başım zindan yokluk var, bu kaçıncı şikayetim bilmem
It is a restless moment. She has kept her head lowered... to give him a chance to come closer. But he could not, for lack of courage. She turns and walks away.
5.12.15
Küçük bir baş lahananın yarısı + 1 baş soğan + 3/4 su bardağı pirinç + 4 su bardağı su + 1 yemek kaşığı salça + 1 tatlı kaşığı toz biber + tuz + karabiber + 3 yemek kaşığı sıvı yağ
"Ben sana kadınım olur musun diyorum, sen kalkmış bana kapuska muamelesi çekiyorsun."
11.10.15
hiç biri dostumuz değil
Dünyanın son günü/İstanbul/beyaz güzel evler/ köşkler/ bütün sokaklar denize iniyor/ deniz kenarındayım/ hava güzel/ kumsal/ yaşlı bir kadınla birlikte ufka bakıyoruz/bana yalnızlıkla ilgili birşey söylüyor/hava birden kararıyor / bulutlar/Kahverengi kızıl bir at ve aynı kızıldan bıyıklı rus terbiyecisi geliyor kumsala/dalgalar büyüyor/deniz kurşuni/atın sahibi ata dalgalarla birlikte takla attırıyor/onları izliyorum/Gökyüzünden uçaklar geçmeye başlıyor/kamikazeler/giderek alçaktan uçmaya başlıyorlar/ ardlarından ışıltılı bir kül yağıyor/ korkarak yukarı koşmaya başlıyor/bir nevi savaş çıkmış/yere inerlerken robota dönüşüyorlar ve beyazlarla diğer renkliler yeryüzünde çatışmaya başlıyorlar/ beni görmemelerini umuyorum/saklanmaya kaçmaya çalışıyorum/bir beyaz robot beni görüyor/hiç biri dostumuz değil/insan suretine bürünerek (barbara streisand) peşimden gelmeye başlıyor/koşmaya başlıyorum.
16.9.15
olsaydı ile bulsaydı
" I need to stop being in love with the ideas of what could have been. We could have slowly inched closer and held each other a little tighter. We could have laughed a little harder and fallen in love some more. There are so many things that could have happened, but didn’t. We almost were. We almost weren’t. We almost happened. Cupid almost won. But he didn’t. And we didn’t either."
6.9.15
As little as you want to write when you're happy that's how much you have to write when you're miserable.
-You're really thrown by all this, aren't you?
-I, uh, yes. Uh-huh.
-I must say that in my culture, it's not judged so harshly.
-Okay, but we're not in your culture. We're in my culture and in my culture... if we didn't have things to judge harshly... we wouldn't know what to do all day.
-Well, maybe your culture needs to grow. Maybe there are other ways to look at life. Maybe there are some people you marry... and people you love.
-Arielle, you're older than I am, you're wiser I'm sure... and you've seen much more of the world. And you're beautiful, and elegant... and smart, and funny ... and interesting... and you feel like family, which is wonderful.
-Are you seriously telling me that a but is coming at the end of the sentence?
-Yes, but...being with you... would be...an affair... and to me ...not ethical. Unethical. Not good...ethically.
-I must respect your ethics if I ask you to respect mine. Should you change your mind, I will continue to be out there... smoking nook on Fridays. But if I never see you again... do know that...I will always remember you very fondly.
-Are you okay?
-I'm sad. It was the beginning.
-Of what?
-Belief.
The following Friday right about after lunchtime the pace of work began to slow. I knew where she was and it was all I could think about.
By the Friday after that.. Well, look, French girls just aren't good for your work habits. And it killed me... that she was lighting her own cigarette.
-I, uh, yes. Uh-huh.
-I must say that in my culture, it's not judged so harshly.
-Okay, but we're not in your culture. We're in my culture and in my culture... if we didn't have things to judge harshly... we wouldn't know what to do all day.
-Well, maybe your culture needs to grow. Maybe there are other ways to look at life. Maybe there are some people you marry... and people you love.
-Arielle, you're older than I am, you're wiser I'm sure... and you've seen much more of the world. And you're beautiful, and elegant... and smart, and funny ... and interesting... and you feel like family, which is wonderful.
-Are you seriously telling me that a but is coming at the end of the sentence?
-Yes, but...being with you... would be...an affair... and to me ...not ethical. Unethical. Not good...ethically.
-I must respect your ethics if I ask you to respect mine. Should you change your mind, I will continue to be out there... smoking nook on Fridays. But if I never see you again... do know that...I will always remember you very fondly.
-Are you okay?
-I'm sad. It was the beginning.
-Of what?
-Belief.
The following Friday right about after lunchtime the pace of work began to slow. I knew where she was and it was all I could think about.
By the Friday after that.. Well, look, French girls just aren't good for your work habits. And it killed me... that she was lighting her own cigarette.
By the Friday after that..
24.5.15
internal combustion
Here, we have her mind. Structured gel. I had to get away from circuitry. I needed something that could arrange and rearrange on a molecular level, but keep its form when required. Holding for memories. Shifting for thoughts.
This is your hardware?
Wetware.
And the, uh... software?
Well, I'm sure you can guess.
Blue Book.
Here's the weird thing about search engines. It was like striking oil in a world that hadn't invented internal combustion. Too much raw material. Nobody knew what to do with it. You see, my competitors, they were fixated on sucking it up and monetising via shopping and social media. They thought that search engines were a map of what people were thinking. But actually they were a map of how people were thinking.
Impulse.
Response.
Fluid.
Imperfect.
Patterned.
Chaotic.
This is your hardware?
Wetware.
And the, uh... software?
Well, I'm sure you can guess.
Blue Book.
Here's the weird thing about search engines. It was like striking oil in a world that hadn't invented internal combustion. Too much raw material. Nobody knew what to do with it. You see, my competitors, they were fixated on sucking it up and monetising via shopping and social media. They thought that search engines were a map of what people were thinking. But actually they were a map of how people were thinking.
Impulse.
Response.
Fluid.
Imperfect.
Patterned.
Chaotic.
20.5.15
Sun and Moon
Demek sen böyle salına salına bensiz gidiyorsun ey canımın canı.
Ey, dostlarının canına can katan,
Gül bahçesine böyle bensiz gitme istemem.
İstemem, ey gökkubbe, bensiz dönme
İstemem, ey ay, bensiz doğma.
İstemem, ey yeryüzü, bensiz durma
Bensiz geçme, ey zaman, istemem.
Sen benimle beraberken
Hem bu dünya güzel bana, hem o dünya güzel.
İstemem, bensiz kalma bu dünyada sen,
O dünyaya bensiz gitme, istemem.
İstemem, ey dizgin, bensiz at sürme.
İstemem, ey dil, bensiz okuma.
İstemem, ey göz, bensiz görme.
Bensiz uçup gitme, ey ruh, istemem.
Senin aydınlığındır aya ışığını veren geceleyin.
Ben bir geceyim, sen bir aysın madem,
Gökyüzünde bensiz gitme, istemem.
Gül sayesinde yanmaktan kurtulan dikene bak bir.
Sen gülsün, bense senin dikeninim madem,
Gül bahçesine bensiz gitme, istemem.
Senin gözün bende iken
Ben senin çevganın önündeyimdir.
Ne olur, öylece bak dur bana,
Bırakıp gitme beni, istemem.
O güzelle berabersen, sen ey neşe,
İstemem, sakın içme bensiz.
Hünkarın damına çıkarsan, ey bekçi,
Sakın bensiz çıkma, istemem
Bir şey yoksa bu yolda senden,
Bitik bu yola düş enlerin hali.
Ben senin izindeyim, ey izi görünmez dost,
Bensiz gitme, istemem.
Ne yazık bu yola bilmeden, rasgele girene!
Sen ey, gideceğim yolu bilen,
Sen ey yolumun ışığı, sen ey benim değneğim,
Bensiz gitme, istemem.
Onlar sadece aşk diyorlar sana,
Oysa aşk sultanı mısın sen benim.
Ey, hiç kimsenin düşüne sığmayan dost,
Bensiz gitme, istemem.
Ey, dostlarının canına can katan,
Gül bahçesine böyle bensiz gitme istemem.
İstemem, ey gökkubbe, bensiz dönme
İstemem, ey ay, bensiz doğma.
İstemem, ey yeryüzü, bensiz durma
Bensiz geçme, ey zaman, istemem.
Sen benimle beraberken
Hem bu dünya güzel bana, hem o dünya güzel.
İstemem, bensiz kalma bu dünyada sen,
O dünyaya bensiz gitme, istemem.
İstemem, ey dizgin, bensiz at sürme.
İstemem, ey dil, bensiz okuma.
İstemem, ey göz, bensiz görme.
Bensiz uçup gitme, ey ruh, istemem.
Senin aydınlığındır aya ışığını veren geceleyin.
Ben bir geceyim, sen bir aysın madem,
Gökyüzünde bensiz gitme, istemem.
Gül sayesinde yanmaktan kurtulan dikene bak bir.
Sen gülsün, bense senin dikeninim madem,
Gül bahçesine bensiz gitme, istemem.
Senin gözün bende iken
Ben senin çevganın önündeyimdir.
Ne olur, öylece bak dur bana,
Bırakıp gitme beni, istemem.
O güzelle berabersen, sen ey neşe,
İstemem, sakın içme bensiz.
Hünkarın damına çıkarsan, ey bekçi,
Sakın bensiz çıkma, istemem
Bir şey yoksa bu yolda senden,
Bitik bu yola düş enlerin hali.
Ben senin izindeyim, ey izi görünmez dost,
Bensiz gitme, istemem.
Ne yazık bu yola bilmeden, rasgele girene!
Sen ey, gideceğim yolu bilen,
Sen ey yolumun ışığı, sen ey benim değneğim,
Bensiz gitme, istemem.
Onlar sadece aşk diyorlar sana,
Oysa aşk sultanı mısın sen benim.
Ey, hiç kimsenin düşüne sığmayan dost,
Bensiz gitme, istemem.
1.5.15
I'd rather be a sparrow than a snail
It took me years to be the woman my mother raised. It took me 4 years 7 months and 3 days do it, without her. After I lost myself in the wilderness of my grief I found my own way out of the woods.
I did not know where I was going until I got there, on the last day of my hike. Thank you, I thought over and over again, for everything the trail had taught me and everything I couldn’t yet know. How in 4 years I'd cross this very bridge and marry a man in a spot almost visible from where I was standing. How in 9 years that man and I would have a son named Carter. And a year later my daughter named after my mother, Bobby.
I know only that I didn't need to reach with my bare hands any more. That seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough. It was everything.
My life — like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me. How wild it was, to let it be.
I did not know where I was going until I got there, on the last day of my hike. Thank you, I thought over and over again, for everything the trail had taught me and everything I couldn’t yet know. How in 4 years I'd cross this very bridge and marry a man in a spot almost visible from where I was standing. How in 9 years that man and I would have a son named Carter. And a year later my daughter named after my mother, Bobby.
I know only that I didn't need to reach with my bare hands any more. That seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough. It was everything.
My life — like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me. How wild it was, to let it be.
elephant in the room
all these poems about people leaving and not one
about how I convinced myself to stay.
I know what you want to hear-
that I slayed the dragon and swallowed my demons
and laughed in the face of my nightmares
and lived happily ever after-
but the truth is much more ordinary.
the truth is I breathe through the pain
even on the days it whistles between my ribs
on every inhale and every exhale
and I celebrate like hell on the days it doesn’t make a sound.
about how I convinced myself to stay.
I know what you want to hear-
that I slayed the dragon and swallowed my demons
and laughed in the face of my nightmares
and lived happily ever after-
but the truth is much more ordinary.
the truth is I breathe through the pain
even on the days it whistles between my ribs
on every inhale and every exhale
and I celebrate like hell on the days it doesn’t make a sound.
23.4.15
Es hängt an einem seidenen Faden
-It's a beautiful night, though.What?
-I never know that means, people saying it's a beautiful night. What does that mean?
-So... Well, to me... It means it's... it's comfortable, familiar. Yet deeply moving.
-Right. No, I feel you. Like, um... Like I'm stoned and listen to Steely Dan.
-No. Nothing at all like that.
-Not like... No. I know. More like an... Yeah. Like...floating down a serene lake in a rowboat when the sun is setting or like when the sun is... being a part of nature.
-Stop speaking.
-Yep.
-It's beautiful when the weather's not hot or cold. Kind of like you don't notice it, kind of like it's perfect 'cause everything's so balanced. You don't even feel it. And while you're feeling that non-feeling... you look up in the sky and you almost think, "That's why," because how everything is right now, all the stars and planets and us and the ground and the cells and molecules... Right now... is exactly the reason. Right now is comfortable.
-You're a now person.
- True.
-Yeah. See, I'm a five-minutes-from-now person, because five minutes from now, a gust of wind could come and blow H1 N1 in everyone's eyes.
-Right. Except that's highly unlikely.
-Or five minutes from now, an earthquake could erupt and swallow us all whole.
-Right. Except that... Shit. That could actually happen.
-Yeah - the point is I'm way too anxious about what could happen five minutes from now to be content with now. Can't do it.
-What if something good happens five minutes from now? Can't that happen?
-No.
-What did you think was gonna happen five minutes before you met me?
-Just really paranoid I'm gonna miss it. I miss things a lot.
-I don't care if l miss it because...
-You're a now person. Got it.
-So, another weird thing I don't mind your pessimism as much as I usually mind pessimism.
-That's great. I hate people who think I'm too negative.
-Also, I like your hat.
-Yeah, I'm probably gonna fall in love with you
-I never know that means, people saying it's a beautiful night. What does that mean?
-So... Well, to me... It means it's... it's comfortable, familiar. Yet deeply moving.
-Right. No, I feel you. Like, um... Like I'm stoned and listen to Steely Dan.
-No. Nothing at all like that.
-Not like... No. I know. More like an... Yeah. Like...floating down a serene lake in a rowboat when the sun is setting or like when the sun is... being a part of nature.
-Stop speaking.
-Yep.
-It's beautiful when the weather's not hot or cold. Kind of like you don't notice it, kind of like it's perfect 'cause everything's so balanced. You don't even feel it. And while you're feeling that non-feeling... you look up in the sky and you almost think, "That's why," because how everything is right now, all the stars and planets and us and the ground and the cells and molecules... Right now... is exactly the reason. Right now is comfortable.
-You're a now person.
- True.
-Yeah. See, I'm a five-minutes-from-now person, because five minutes from now, a gust of wind could come and blow H1 N1 in everyone's eyes.
-Right. Except that's highly unlikely.
-Or five minutes from now, an earthquake could erupt and swallow us all whole.
-Right. Except that... Shit. That could actually happen.
-Yeah - the point is I'm way too anxious about what could happen five minutes from now to be content with now. Can't do it.
-What if something good happens five minutes from now? Can't that happen?
-No.
-What did you think was gonna happen five minutes before you met me?
-Just really paranoid I'm gonna miss it. I miss things a lot.
-I don't care if l miss it because...
-You're a now person. Got it.
-So, another weird thing I don't mind your pessimism as much as I usually mind pessimism.
-That's great. I hate people who think I'm too negative.
-Also, I like your hat.
-Yeah, I'm probably gonna fall in love with you
8.4.15
Like there is a face on Mars
[Lydia begins reading Tony's Kushner's "Angels in America"]
Night flight to San Francisco. Chase the moon across America. God! Its been years since I was on a plane. When we hit 35,000 feet we'll have reached the tropopause... The great belt of calm air. As close as I'll ever get to the ozone.
I dreamed we were there. The plane leapt the tropopause... the safe air and attained the outer rim... the ozone which was ragged and torn... patches of it threadbare as old cheesecloth and that was... frightening.
But I saw something only I could see... because of my astonishing ability to see such things. Souls were rising... from the earth far below... souls of the dead of people who had perished from... famine, from war, from the plague... and they floated up like skydivers in reverse. limbs all akimbo, wheeling and spinning. And the souls of these departed joined hands... clasped ankles and formed a web, a great net of souls. And the souls were three atom oxygen molecules of the stuff of ozone... and the outer rim absorbed them and was repaired.
Nothing's lost forever. In this world, there is a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we've left behind and... dreaming ahead. At least I think that's so
That's it.
Hey.
Did you like that?
Hmm, what I just read.
Did you hate it?
[Alice mumbles incoherently]
[Alice continues mumbling]
What...
What was it about?
Love.
Love.
Yeah mom.
It was about love.
Night flight to San Francisco. Chase the moon across America. God! Its been years since I was on a plane. When we hit 35,000 feet we'll have reached the tropopause... The great belt of calm air. As close as I'll ever get to the ozone.
I dreamed we were there. The plane leapt the tropopause... the safe air and attained the outer rim... the ozone which was ragged and torn... patches of it threadbare as old cheesecloth and that was... frightening.
But I saw something only I could see... because of my astonishing ability to see such things. Souls were rising... from the earth far below... souls of the dead of people who had perished from... famine, from war, from the plague... and they floated up like skydivers in reverse. limbs all akimbo, wheeling and spinning. And the souls of these departed joined hands... clasped ankles and formed a web, a great net of souls. And the souls were three atom oxygen molecules of the stuff of ozone... and the outer rim absorbed them and was repaired.
Nothing's lost forever. In this world, there is a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we've left behind and... dreaming ahead. At least I think that's so
That's it.
Hey.
Did you like that?
Hmm, what I just read.
Did you hate it?
[Alice mumbles incoherently]
[Alice continues mumbling]
What...
What was it about?
Love.
Love.
Yeah mom.
It was about love.
You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
7.4.15
A walking study In demonology
Oh, look at my face
My name is might have been
My name is never was
My name's forgotten
My name is might have been
My name is never was
My name's forgotten
2.4.15
you couldn't read my mind
"Demek ki insanlar birbirine ancak muayyen bir hadde kadar yaklaşabiliyorlar ve ondan sonra, daha fazla sokulmak için atılan her adım daha çok uzaklaştırıyor. Seninle aramızdaki yakınlaşmanın bir hududu, bir sonu olmamasını ne kadar isterdim. Beni asıl, bu ümidin boşa çıkması üzüyor…Bundan sonra kendimizi aldatmaya lüzum yok… Artık eskisi gibi apaçık konuşamayız… Bunları ne diye, neyin uğruna feda ettik? Hiç!.. Mevcut olmayan bir şeye malik olalım derken mevcut olanları kaybettik… Her şey bitti mi? Zannetmem. İkimizin de çocuk olmadığımızı biliyorum. Yalnız bir müddet dinlenmek ve birbirimizden uzak kalmak lazım. Ta birbirimizi tekrar görmek ihtiyacını şiddetle duyana kadar…"
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