In The End

Original version (Turkish):

“Nihayet” by Betül Dünder

zamanın çoğunu yaşamıştı zaman 
hayat sözcüğünde varolan eğimden habersizdik henüz
düştüğün yerden kalkmanın belirsiz mahcubiyeti
kendine gülmenin /kendine acımtrak gülmenin 
Bergson’dan beri bir anlamı var
ve kalkmak eğer kışlara düşmediysen
kalbinin rüzgârından değilse eğer
başkasının üzerine de yıkılmadıysan -ne güzel şeysin sen-
kalkabilmenin öyküsü daha fenadır düşmekten
bilirsin gövdenin ağırlığını yalnızlık sözcüğünden
öyle dik durmanın heybetinden kimse bahsetmesin uzun uzun
uğultular var uğultular -ne diyor bunlar
sevdiğin hani -nereye gidiyorsun- gözlerin hani
bir burkulmalık can taşıdığını hatırlatır bu düşmeler
ölüm bir çıt sesidir nihayet

felaketi gördün. bozulan havayı
dağa baktın yanan ateş, şehre baktın alev alev
denizler bir kurtarıcı gibi göründü gözüne
ama heyhat su yanıyor su yanıyor 
deniz yıldızısın sen diyor biri, kaç kurtar kendini
karada can kalmadı karada insan diye bir şey
ateşi söndürecek el kalmadı
ölüm bir kül yığınıdır nihayet

neden yaşıyorsun bildiğinden emin değilim artık
bildirimler geliyor duyguların hep ona göre
doğru ile yanlış gerçek ile hakikat
sen karıştırmadın mı kendini tarihten kaçırarak
dağ yandı, şehir yandı bir sen vardın senden içeri
ama heyhat korktun tutmaya başkasının elini
ölüm sana uğramadı şimdilik -öyle mi!
gömdün sevdiklerini, alışkanlıklarını ve eski dünyayı
buraya geldin bir sürgünün yaşamı seninki -öyle mi
birinin sabahı birinin akşamına karıştı
birinin ölüsü diğerinin yanına gömüldü
sen bakındın insan ile arandaki mesafe ne kadar
gökteki yıldızla denizdeki yıldızın ne farkı var
gökte alev denizde ateş
su yanıyor su yanıyor

annen unuttu seni bu hiç yaşamadın demektir nihayet

English version:

“In The End” translated by Mehmet Kaan Eğretli

time had lived most of time
we were oblivious yet to the slope in the word life
the shame of rising from where you fell
laughing at yourself / laughing somewhat bitterly at yourself
has carried a meaning since Bergson 
and rising, if you haven’t fallen on winters
if it wasn’t because of your heart’s wind
and if you also haven’t fallen on someone else -what a beautiful thing you are-
the story if being able to rise is worse than falling
you know the weight of your body from the word loneliness 
let no one speak of at length the grandeur of standing upright 
there are howls, there are howls- what do they say 
your beloved you know -where are you going- your eyes you know
these falls remind that you carry a life only worth a sprain 
death is a snap in the end 

you have seen the disaster. the weather worsening
you looked at the mountain, a burning fire, you looked at the city ablaze
the seas appeared to you like a savior 
but alas the water is burning the water is burning* 
someone says you are mermaid, run and save yourself 
no life left on land nothing called human 
no hand left to extinguish the fire 
death is a pile of ashes in the end

I am not sure you know why you live anymore
notifications come your emotions always accord 
true and false fact and truth 
haven’t you mixed it up by kidnapping yourself from history 
the mountain burnt, the city burnt there was a you within you **
but alas you were scared to hold someone else’s hand 
death hasn’t visited you yet -is that so!
you have buried your loved ones, habits and the old world
you came here yours is the life of an exile -is that so!
one’s evening mixed with one’s morning
one’s dead was buried next to another’s 
you looked around, how much is the distance between you and human 
what is the difference between the star in the sky and in the sea 
flame in the sky fire in the sea
the water is burning the water is burning

your mother forgot you that means you never lived in the end

Translator’s Notes:

* “the water is burning” is most likely a quotation from Ahmet Haşim’s poem titled “Merdiven”(“Merdiven” meaning “Stairs” in English). Ahmet Haşim is widely considered as one of the founding fathers of modern Turkish poetry. “Merdiven”, in accordance with the rest of Haşim’s poems, is a symbolic poem dealing with death and old age. To put it disrespectfully short, the poem likens the process of life and becoming older to climbing a set of marble stairs. An air of autumn rules the “colorscape” of the poem as the connotation of death and decay it carries is commonly associated with old age: “Watch the red air, it is becoming night… Bloody nightingales perch in fire-like branches.”.  In “Merdiven”, the speaker questions why even the marble stairs he climbs takes upon the colors of fall “Has the waters burnt? Why is the marble like bronze?” Since water is impossible to burn, the question here is metaphorical, it reflects the inability of the speaker to cope with old age.  Betül Dündar might be making a reference to this metaphorical question here. 

** “there was a deeper you within you” is a reference to Yunus Emre’s poem “Bir Ben Vardır Bende”. The term “poem” is used loosely here as Yunus Emre was a famous folk poet from the 13th century who wrote his “poems” to be sung rather than read. “Bir Ben Vardır Benden İçeri” is a rather metaphysical poem discussing the relations between the believer and God. In the poem exists a line that has been sparking intellectual debate for centuries “There exists a me in me, inside me.”, some argue that this quote refers to the subconscious, others believe that it is a pantheist argument declaring God’s presence in man. Betül Dündar makes a reference to this line here to possibly refer to a fragmented consciousness. 

Comment:

This is an English translation of Betül Dünder’s poem called “Nihayet”. “Nihayet” is an intertextual poem that deals with old age, survivor’s guilt, family relations, death and fragmented consciousness. It utilizes multiple poetic voices and references in order to create a multitude of sounds. Set in an almost apocalyptic mood, it tries to find hope above a crumbling world. Betül Dünder was born in Istanbul and grew up in Üsküdar, surrounded by books. She graduated from Anadolu University with a degree in Sociology and completed her MA at Mimar Sinan Fine Arts University with a thesis on women poets after the 1980s. Active in theatre between 1990 and 2003, she has worked as a philosophy teacher in Istanbul for over twenty years. A prominent poet of the 2000s, Dünder is known for her lyrical and understated exploration of nature and mystery, earning major awards such as the Rıfat Ilgaz and Ruhi Su Poetry Prizes.