smell of the sea

Landscapes

The moon came up
Behind the house across the street.
Street noises began.
The air is cooler,
From far away comes the smell of the sea.
I am an expert on landscapes.

Orhan Veli

ir

TOWARD FREEDOM

Before dawn,
While the sea is still snow-white, you will set sail;
The grip of the oars in your palms,
And in your heart the joy of toil and vigor,
You will go.
In the roll and sway of the nets, you will go.
For welcome, fish will appear on your course
Delighting you.
As you shake the nets,
Scale by scale, the sea will journey into your hands.
When silence pervades the souls of seagulls
In the cemetery of the rocks,
All of a sudden,
All hell will break loose on the horizon:
Mermaids will scuttle and birds scurry...
Saturnalia and festivals, orgies and carnivals,
Bridal processions, masquerades, revelries, carausals...
Heeeyy!
Whaddya waiting for, man, jump in the sea!
Forget who's waitying for you back there.
Don't you see: Freedom is all around you.
Be the sail, the oar, the rudder, the fish, the water,
And go, go whereever you can.

Orhan Veli

'I am listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed' (Orhan Veli)

I AM LISTENING TO ISTANBUL

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed:
At first there is a gentle breeze
And the leaves on the trees
Softly sway;
Out there, far away,
-<*  The bells of water-carriers unceasingly ring;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Then suddenly birds fly by,
Flocks of birds, high up, with a hue and cry,
While the nets are drawn in the fishing grounds
And a woman's feet begin to dabble in the water.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
The Grand Bazaar's serene and cool,
An uproar at the hub of the Market,
Mosque yards are full of pigeons.
While hammers bang and clang at the docks
Spirng winds bear the smell of sweat;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Still giddy from the revelries of the past,
A seaside mansion with dingy boathouses is fast asleep.
Amid the din and drone of southern winds, reposed,
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
A pretty girl walks by on the sidewalk:
Four-letter words, whistles and songs, rude remarks;
Something falls out of her hand -
It is a rose, I guess.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
A bird flutters round your skirt;
On your brow, is there sweet? Or not ? I know.
Are your lips wet? Or not? I know.
A silver moon rises beyond the pine trees:
I can sense it all in your heart's throbbing.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

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não só este mas o livro inteiro de poemas traduzidos de Orhan Veli, aqui.