A YOUNG GIRL TOOK ME TO THE GARDEN
A young girl took me to the garden
I saw that its branches were drunk
In the waving winds and pouring rains
The cypress bends, its branches are drunk
My rosy one sits on a cloth of gold
She keeps her shy eyes from her friends
When summer comes, on grass and meadow
She pours out wine, her hands are drunk
My young one nests in lofty places
She chases the falcon over the plains
Please, friends, don't touch my pretty fledgling
Though her gaze is soft and her eyes are drunk
My young one goes to Bulgar Mountain
When she hears my voice she tosses her curls
It is time to kiss her, to inhale her scent
She sings sweetly, her tongue is drunk
Karac'oğlan says we've reached spring and summer
My love's fresh as a garden at dawn
She has wine in one hand, cakes in the other
How shall I take them, her roses are drunk
Translated by Seyfi Karabaş and Judith Yarnall
LET'S GO TO THE LAND OF SWEET PLEASURE
Heart, why do you roam among steep cliffs?
Come down quickly, let's take the road
You won't be contented by loving just one
Let's go to the land of sweet pleasure
Let the owl of sorrow soar where it will
My tears keep filling my eyes
Not everyone knows how to value a man
Let's go to the land of the prized
Let the bold falcon take its prey
Let my friends and brothers draw near
May my enemies die in foreign places
Let's go to the land of our kin
Karac'oğlan says why abstain
From the food of love? Move on to the feast
Rather than Crossing the Bridge of denial
Let us fall, and be engulfed by the flood
Translated by Seyfi Karabaş and Judith Yarnall
MY CRAZY HEART, DON'T PINE FOR YOURSELF
My crazy heart, don't pine for yourself
You can find what you need in this land
Aren't there pomegranates, oranges, quince?
What luscious fruit's close at hand!
Beware, my friends, of slender young girls
Of the curved knife with dimpled cheeks
Bees sip honey from a thousand flowers
What sweetness the gentle bee finds!
The brave man stands fast as a mountain
Don't love one who's sharp-tongued and plain
The nightingale sings for the budded rose
What fragrance it gives a girl's hair!
Troubadours tell of these things, not I
She took her curved knife to my heart
Is she a roan deer or a white gazelle?
How steep are the highest rocks!
Karac'oğlan cries from his heart
My rose-cheeked quail slipped away
Some long for heaven, some for hell
How tortuous the roads through this world!
Translated by Seyfi Karabaş and Judith Yarnall
AS THEY FILL WATER JUGS AT DAWN
As they fill water jugs at dawn
The hands and fingers of girls grow cold
Jewelled belts enclasp waists so slender
They could pass through rings of horn
May I find nearby what I have lost
May God permit me to enter your bed
May I lick the sweetness from rosy cheeks
And sip the honey that flows from girls' lips
My beloved has the slenderest of waists
Her tongue is sweeter than sherbet
Bouquets of roses adorn her white brow
Their fragrance mingles with hers
Karac'oğlan says tell them I'm dead
Let them gather to pray for my soul
Let them bury me by the Side of the road
Let young girls pause at my grave
Translated by Seyfi Karabaş and Judith Yarnall
I WENT UP TO THE WILD, HIGH PLACES
I went up to the wild, high places
Where once I walked with my friend
If mine were the only cares, I could bear them
But all the world is desolate
The peaks are hidden, lost in the clouds
How can the healthy understand the sick?
Hedges are trampled and vineyards blighted
The nightingale's rose is desolate
In the past, we rode on Arabian steeds
And sat at long tables laden with feasts
I deserted my birthplace and went abroad
Chiefs with fine Arab horses are desolate
The world's other side is an evil place
Where fortune never deigns to smile
A speckled duck has left her homeland
The lake's still surface is desolate
Karac'oğlan cries: where are my songs?
My face is earth under your feet
My saz is broken, I cannot play
Its strings are tuneless and desolate
Translated by Seyfi Karabaş and Judith Yarnall
THE GOOD TREE GROWS OUT FROM ITS CORE
The good tree grows out from its core
The superior man from his promise
One who cries for a stranger loses her sight
Don't cry, you whose tears I adore
She warbles and struts like a partridge
She anoints herself with fine oils
Morning and evening, bright scarves adorn her
Dear green-headed one, raise your eyes
Karac'oğlan says let her stroll
Let others on the road take her toll
But first, show me your breasts again
You whose stippling of moles I adore
Translated by Seyfi Karabaş and Judith Yarnall
COME, BROTHERS, LET'S STROLL
Come, brothers, let's stroll
At dawn the blue duck flew from the lake
She is dressed in red, with blossoms in her hair
In the morning she rose like the sun
No one can bear the light of her beauty
Does she have flesh or wings?
She can't be bought for a paltry sum
In the morning she prances like a mare
My eyes linger on her white breasts
I breathe the thin air of love
When I see a beauty, I write down her name
In the morning she garnished my list
Karac'oğlan says your words are fine
You're stately and tall as a queen
Your brows are like bows, your lashes arrows
In the morning they struck my heart
Translated by Seyfi Karabaş and Judith Yarnall
[From An Anthology of Turkish literature, Edited by
Kemal Silay]
