Eyvallah / Thank-you…and Goodbye
Posted: July 12, 2011 Filed under: Muharrem Aşan, Turkish | Tags: Turkish poetry Comments Off on Eyvallah / Thank-you…and Goodbye_____
Bi bahane bulmuşum
Kapina dayanmişim
Görmüsüm seni
Içime serin sular dökülmüş
Görmüsüm gözlerini
Eder pir, pir içim şimdi.
* * *
Etmedin buyur içeri
Buza mi gömdün yüreğini
Eyvallah iki gözüm eyvallah
Hayattasin ya, buna da şükur.
_____
Muharrem Aşan
Editor’s note:
Muharrem Aşan is tall and handsome
– and has a charismatic personality.
He lives in Toronto.
Zócalo Poets – Toronto!
Posted: July 1, 2011 Filed under: IMAGES Comments Off on Zócalo Poets – Toronto!
Kanneerin Chamuththiram / Ocean of Tears
Posted: June 30, 2011 Filed under: Bavan Sribalan, English, Tamil Comments Off on Kanneerin Chamuththiram / Ocean of Tears_____
ENGAL THAAI NAADDIL IRUNTHU VALLIKIRATHU
ORU KANNEERCH CHAMUTHTHIRAM
UDAINTHU POHNA ULLANKALLAI SUGAP PADUTHTHA
KANAVUKAL ETHUVUM UTHAVAP POHVATHILLAI
ORU THESAM PILLAVUNDATHU, OHR IRAVIL
NAANGAL ELLORUM ANAHTHAIGALAHNOHM
NAANGAL MARAKKAPPADDA ORU ULAGAM
OHRAM KADDAP PADDU THANITHTHU ULDAPPADDAVARKAL
KOODDILLULLA VILANGU KAADCHI VILANGUGALPOHL
NAANGAL ALAVUKKU ATHIGAMAAGAVE ILANTHUVIDDOHM
NAANGAL EPPOTHUM SUTHANTHIRAMAHGA IRUNTHATHILLAI
ENGAL NEENDA NINAIVUGALIL
ANGAE SILA VETRU KUDISAIKAL
PULLUTHIYIL ENJI YULLANA
ORU NAAL VARUM
NAANGAL MEENDUM ELLUVOEM
ATHUVARAI
NAANGAL NAADKALAI KADATHTHI CHELUOEM.
*
OCEAN OF TEARS
THERE IS AN OCEAN OF TEARS
FLOWING FROM OUR HOMELAND.
THERE ARE BROKEN HEARTS,
NO DREAMS CAN HEAL THEM.
A NATION TORN APART
( WE WERE ORPHANED THAT NIGHT… )
WE ARE A WORLD FORGOTTEN,
PUSHED ASIDE – ALONE.
LIKE ZOO ANIMALS IN CAGES,
WE HAVE LOST MUCH
– NEVER BEEN FREE –
IN OUR MEMORY.
EMPTY HUTS STAND IN THE DUST.
THERE WILL COME A TIME
– WE WILL RISE AGAIN.
UNTIL THEN,
WE’LL CARRY ON !
_____
Translation from Tamil into English by the author:
Bavan Sribalan
*
Editor’s note:
Bavan Sribalan’s poem is a reflection upon the civil war in Sri Lanka.
Forward Berth
Posted: June 29, 2011 Filed under: Adam Zemans, English Comments Off on Forward Berth_____
Where I lay last innocent
In utero on a 36-foot wooden sailboat, Bicentenial 1976
Teak bobbing on water
Asleep in the forward berth
Sails furled
Rocking
Sun filtering, flickering
Below deck
In utero
Last protected
Unburdened by human tragedy
Rocking
Asleep in the forward berth
Sun filtering, flickering
Teak bobbing on water
Where I lay last innocent
_____
Adam Zemans (Vancouver, June 2011)
Al Corrector de Texto por James Morris
Posted: June 28, 2011 Filed under: James Morris, Spanish, ZP Translator: Lidia García Garay Comments Off on Al Corrector de Texto por James Morris_____
Al Corrector de Texto
No hables de me sintáxis,
tú, dominador ligüístico de corazón negro.
Calla tu voz alta, ronca, de escarnio crítico.
Tú no puedes comprender mi estilo y mi visión.
Pon en paréntesis tus objeciones y tus agudos arrebatos,
El conocimiento del idioma que yo poseo va más allá de tu evasión de artificios.
Y a propósito,
mi Gramática era una encantadora mujer.
_____
Traducción al español por Lidia García Garay
To the Proofreader by James Morris
Posted: June 27, 2011 Filed under: English, James Morris Comments Off on To the Proofreader by James Morris_____
To the Proofreader
Speak not about my syntax,
you black-hearted linguistic dominatrix.
Silence your high, hoarse voice of critical derision.
You can’t understand my style and vision.
Parenthesize your objections and your punctuated conniptions.
I have knowledge of language beyond your avoidance of contrivance.
And by the way,
My Grammar was a lovely woman.
“Where I’m From” by Luca
Posted: June 27, 2011 Filed under: English, Luca Comments Off on “Where I’m From” by Luca_____
I’m from the artwork that mother makes and buys,
I’m from apple,
pod to phone and touch to tik.
I’m from the cotton fluff dragged around by the dog,
that reminds me of those bottles,
which I keep procrastinating to put outside.
I’m from the pear tree,
the ivy and the ferns which grow on one side.
I’m from the trees and the gardens
(which are all so natural),
also the gates and high hedges,
which people like to keep private.
I’m from No and Na,
Dino, too,
all three are gone,
they’re all on my mother’s side.
I’m from the stories, relived by dad,
and from the brunch,
and the pancakes.
I’m from fun which is only age,
replaced with a smile.
I’m from what God said to his people
(in the Torah, probably),
the most golden rule of all;
Do Unto Others, As Others Would do Unto Y’all.
I’m from roast turkey and chicken,
a few ribs will do,
from chocolate pecan pie
to whipped cream sundaes,
so much you can barely see the ice cream.
I’m from the little blue photo album, which is rarely seen.
_____
LUCA, age 10
Zócalo Poets 