Friday, May 17, 2013

Thirty-Three Bullets (Otuzüç Kurşun -- Ahmed Arif, Zulfu Livaneli)

Lyrics are based on a poem by Ahmed Arif (20th c.), one of the greatest poets of Turkey, and definitely the greatest Kurdish master of Turkish language in poetry. Many of Arif's poems have been put to music by various musicians including Cem Karaca, Fikret Kizilok, Ahmet Kaya, and Zulfu Livaneli. For a fuller list, please see this Wikipedia page.

The poem is a remembrance of the unlawful execution of 33 persons in 1943, especially of the children who were among the killed.

This translation is based on the original adaption by O. Zulfu livaneli of one repeating stanza of the poem "Otuzüç Kurşun" (literally, Thirty-Three Bullets). I added another based on two other stanzas, which seems to fit the music composed by Livaneli. Here is this piece (must bear the intro):

The last line of the first stanza could also read like this: "In my mouth which is torn to pieces." It is impossible to determine which version the poet intended.

I had trouble deciding on what kind of visuals to use. The event on which the poet based his lamentation is so horrible that any direct graphical reference would have been too graphic. Then, again, this was not an isolated case in time or place. Such and much more abominable crimes had and have been, and, are happening at any time or place on this hate-ridden planet of ours. And, almost invariably, directly or indirectly, children are placed at the center of the sufferings. Thus, I decided to use these photographs: from two different times, from two distant places.

The first photograph belongs to Merl La Voy (or, Mryl LaVoy), early 20th century photographer, filmmaker, and traveler. He is considered an early pioneer in news photography, and is likened to Marco Polo for his extensive travels. The photograph above was probably taken during his visit to Balkans and Turkey.

The second photograph has a very tragic story: that of the photographer Kevin Carter. His suicide note tells of a man deprived of everything: from money to hope. It is filled with anguish, disgust, and anger. And, enters the Pulitzer prize. Who gives a ... !

Below is the part of the poem parts of which were translated (bold lines). Here is the whole of it (112 lines).
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Vurulmuşum
Dağların kuytuluk bir boğazında
Vakitlerden bir sabah namazında
Yatarım
Kanlı, upuzun...

Vurulmuşum
Düşüm, gecelerden kara
Bir hayra yoranım çıkmaz
Canım alırlar ecelsiz
Sığdıramam kitaplara
Şifre buyurmuş bir paşa
Vurulmuşum hiç sorgusuz, yargısız

Kirvem, hallarımı aynı böyle yaz
Rivayet sanılır belki
Gül memeler değil
Domdom kurşunu
Paramparça ağzımdaki...
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Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Hush, Don't Say (Sus Söyleme -- Zülfü Livaneli)

Lyrics and music: O. Zulfu Livaneli, internationally acclaimed musician, composer, performer, poet, writer, and director. The last line of one repeating stanza (There is no happy love) is from Louis Aragon, the great French poet and novelist.

Here is the music:

Original Lyrics:
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Sus söyleme
Bir şey söyleme artık
Sus söyleme
Her şey gereksiz artık
Bana düşen dönüp de gitmek
Sonunda elimde kalan
Bir avuç hüzün ve keder

Yeter yeter söyleme artık
Kelimeler kanatır yarayı
Gözlerin anlatıyor
Mutlu aşk yoktur

Oysa ben sana neler adamıştım
İçli şarkılar, kırık ezgiler
Yüreğimdem süzülüp gelen
Bırakıp gittin beni
Bir gün yollarda

Yeter yeter söyleme artık
Kelimeler kanatır yarayı
Gözlerin anlatıyor
Mutlu aşk yoktur
Sus söyleme her şey ortada artık
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Bitter Prisoner (Dargın Mahkum -- Aşık Mahzuni)

Lyrics and music: Aşık Mahzuni Şerif, a master folk artist, composer, poet, and writer from traditional school (20th c.).

Here are two examples from various performances:

Original lyrics:
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Darıldım ben sana canım, böyle mi olacaktı?
Vuruldum baksana, kanım yerde mi kalacaktı?
Hapishane içinde minderim kana battı.
Yahu bu ne haldır, öldüm yedi yıldır.
Gardiyan çekti gitti.
Dağ gibi ömrüm benim ne çabuk söndü bitti.

Yoruldum hal bilmezden, yaş geldi kırka çıktı.
Dirildim dirildim geri de öldüm, dostlar bizi bıraktı.
Mahzuni gelir beyler bizim yaylada yaylar,
Yahu deli miyim, yok ölü müyüm?
Parlayan bizi paylar.
Ağlama sızlama anam benim bir gün biter yaralar.

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