Ahmed Hasim (1884-1933)

He came to Istanbul from Baghdad and began his education at the Mekteb-i Sultani (presently the Galatasaray High School, long known for its excellence in French language education) as a boarding student. There he was introduced to the French poetry which later would influence his own work. The poems that he wrote during these years exhibit a romantic attitude and many lyrical qualities. In his later works, one can see the influence of Şeyh Galip (1757-1799), in addition to that of French and Belgian poets. POETRY: Göl Saatleri (1921), Piyale (1926). OTHER WORKS: Gurabhane-i Laklakan (1928, collected Newspaper articles), Bize Göre (1928, collected newspaper articles), Frankfurt Seyahatnamesi (1933, travel notes).

POOL

Deep down, the night has massed again

My darling smiles in her wonted place

My darling who doesn't come by day

Appears at night by the pool.

 

The moonlight a sash for her waist

The heavens her secret veil

The stars roses in her hand.

 

Translated by Bernard Lewis           

DARKNESS

On this dark night of love

Wildly the nightingale sings again,

Has Leyla left Mejnun?

I thought the wild voice sang of parting pain.

 

On this dark night of love

I felt my grief, remembered you,

Burned like the love-lorn nightingale's sad refrain.

                                                                                                       

Translated by Bernard Lewis

ENVOI

Do not think it is a rose, nor yet a tulip,

It brims with fire, touch it not, lest you burn,

The rose-hued beaker standing there before you...

 

Fuzuli drank of that flame,

By this elixir Mejnun fell

Into that state of which the poet told...

 

They burn, who quaff this cup;

With it the night of love is filled

From end to end with anguish and with sighs...

It brims with fire, touch it not, lest you burn,

The rose-hued beaker standing there before you.

 

Translated by Bernard Lewis

STAIRCASE

Slowly, slowly will you mount this stairway

—A heap of sun-tinged leaves upon your skirts—

And for a while gaze weeping at the sky...

The waters darken and your face grows pale,

Look at the scarlet air, for evening comes...

Bowed towards the earth, the roses endless glow,

Flame-like the nightingales bleed upon the boughs;

Has marble turned to bronze, do waters burn?

This is a secret tongue that fills the soul

Look at the scarlet air, for evening comes...

 

Translated by Bernard Lewis

DAWN

Shall we return then from this dawn of love?

And shall we travel to the realms of night ?

Now those who came here earlier than we

Weep for the phantom of an earlier light.

Return? How can there be a turning back?

When hearts are fallen in so sad a plight?

—It is a hand that reaches from the skies—

The darkness draws to oneness and delight.

 

Translated by Bernard Lewis

 

[From An Anthology of Turkish literature, Edited by Kemal Silay]