Sleeplessness, and a cat before the window
Stood without ever speaking the whole night
Rain poured down, then stopped,
The cat before the window,
Neither entered the night, nor slept,
Looked, looked, and looked,
No one could say if it was born or not.
As if once to him it was said
To come down from the mat.
So now, he, from a departed feel
That stood outside the window sill
Came down from a night, entered a room.
And said:
You too, come down from your sleep.
No one could say whether it was love or not.
Keeping quiet,
He waited.
Now his old sleeplessness
Was nourished by his new temper.
Ahhh..
The cat was inside this slumber.
One night the cat was on the road to Ankara,
One day, on the road to Marmaris.
He was before all the gates of slumbers.
With his meows, with his scratches
He was in the dreams of a woman
And with all its peevishness
He stood before her memories.
Uykusuzluk ve pencerede bir kedi
Gece boyu hiç konuşmadan durdu.
Yağmurlar yağdı, dindi,
Pencerede hep kedi,
Ne geceye girdi, ne de uyudu,
Baktı, baktı, baktı,
Belli değildi doğmadığı, doğduğu.
Sanki ona bir zaman
Hadi minderden in dendi.
O da şimdi, yola çıkıp bir duygudan
Pencerenin dışında duran
Bir geceden indi, odaya girdi.
Dedi:
Hadi şimdi sen de in uykundan.
Sevdi mi, sevmedi mi, belli etmedi.
Sürdürüp suskunluğunu
Bekledi.
Şimdi eski uykusuzluğunu
Yeni huysuzluğu besledi.
Aaaa..
Kedi bu uykunun içindeydi.
Ankara yolundaydı bir gece,
Bir gün Marmaris yolundaydı kedi.
Bütün uyku kapılarının önündeydi.
Mırmırları, tırmalamalarıyla
Bir kadının düşlerindeydi
Ve bütün hırçınlığıyla
Anılarının önündeydi.
Mum Aleviyle Oynayan Kedinin Öyküsü
There was a burning candle in the room of a house
And there was a cat in that house.
Yapma Çiçekler
A naked woman
Comes from her beauty mountains
Tahir ile Zühre Meselesi
It's not shameful to be Tahir, nor to be Zühre
It's not shameful to die for love either
Nothing caused him as much pain
As his callus caused;
Benimki yalnızca teşhis
For instance at night, around how many stars form a space
For instance here, around how many cities shape a homeland
İstanbul Türküsü
In Istanbul, in Bosphorus
I am a poor Orhan Veli,