Ali Gunvar poems

Born in 1953 in ฤฐzmir, Ali Gรผnvar graduated from the Faculty of Architecture, Istanbul Technical University (1978). He was one the founders of รœรง ร‡iรงek – Three Flowers magazine. (1983). In 1986, he published ลžiir Atฤฑ – Poetry Horse books at the ลžiir Atฤฑ Publishing. From 1978 on, his poems and prose writings have appeared in magazines such as Birikim, Yazko Edebiyat, Yazko EleลŸtiri, Yazko Felsefe, Gรถsteri, OluลŸum, Poetika, รœรง ร‡iรงek, ลžiir Atฤฑ, ฤฐmge / Ayrฤฑm, Sombahar, Bรผrde, Yedi ฤฐklim, Kitap Zamanฤฑ, Est et Non, ฤฐpek Dili, and Kรถk ลžiir.

His poetry collections: ร‡arpฤฑk Hรผzรผnler Kantatฤฑ – Cantata of Distorted Melancholy (1984), Anthropomorphus (1987), Eyzan (1997), Nisyan/Rapsodi – Oblivion/Rhapsody (2002), Ricatlar Kitabฤฑ – The Book of Retreats (2013).

Prose: DoฤŸru Yazฤฑlar – Straightforward Writings (1999 - 2017).



Lorca’ya
kargฤฑลŸ sone
durdum... gรถveren sรฎm aฤŸacฤฑn gรถlgesi ฤฑlgฤฑn
bir gรผndรผzรผ beklerdi, รงiรงeklerle bezenmiลŸ...

siccรฎnde uyanmฤฑลŸ gibi korkunรงtu siren... รงรผn
bรขzรฎรงe yฤฑkฤฑk burรงlarฤฑmฤฑzdan dรผลŸรผvermiลŸ
solgun tฤฑnฤฑ... heyhat! ne bir iลŸmรขr, ne iลŸรขret,
her ลŸey kaรงฤฑnฤฑlmaz sona doฤŸru akฤฑyorken...

vurgun yedi genรง gรผnlerimiz... ah gรผl umarsฤฑz...
koylarda telรขลŸsฤฑz gemiler battฤฑ... liman boลŸ...
baktฤฑk ki dilรขrรข bize dรผลŸman... ve sularda
ลŸol tekdรผze im kendini tekrar ediyordu...

suskundu semรขvรขt... hem o sonsuz kฤฑzฤฑl akลŸam
yorgun ve tedirgin dรถnรผลŸรผmlerle yฤฑkฤฑldฤฑ...

cรขm sฤฑrlarฤฑ gizlerken ufuklarda kฤฑrฤฑk... k'ey!
kargฤฑลŸlฤฑ duvaklarla donanmฤฑลŸtฤฑ visalin...


for Lorca
cursing sonnet
i stop… the shadows of silver trees
turning blue wait for a laureated morn

scary is the siren awakened in a deep hell valley…
our games are as faded timbers falling down
the ruined bastions… alas! neither a gesture left,
nor a sign when everything flows towards its doom…

crippled are my young days… o! hopeless rose
calm vessels sink down in the bays… empty ’s
the harbor… i see… my beloved is my enmy…
the same image repeats itself on the water’s surface…

silenced are the heavens… and the infinitely red dusk
is abolished with tired and gumbling rotations…

when the broken glass hides the mystries at the skyline…
o, sand islands! reunions decorated with cursed veils…


per Lorca
sonetto maledetto

mi fermo... le ombre degli alberi d'argento
mentre diventano blu aspettano una mattinata da premio

spaventosa รจ la sirena svegliata in una valle infernale profonda...
i nostri giochi sono come legni sbiaditi che cadono
i bastioni in rovina... ahimรจ! nรฉ un gesto รจ rimasto,
nรฉ un segnale di quando tutto scorreva incontro al destino...

paralizzati sono i miei giovani giorni... o! rosa senza speranza
navi calme affondano nelle baie... vuote
il porto... comprendo che... la mia amata รจ il mio nemico...
la stessa immagine si riflette sulla superficie dell’acqua...

silenziati sono i cieli... e il crepuscolo infinitamente rosso
viene abolito con rotazioni stanche e sgretolate...
quando occhiali rotti nascondono i misteri all’orizzonte...
o, isole di sabbia! Gli incontri li decoravano con veli maledetti...


francisco sanchez gomez'e sone
aฤŸฤฑr ahลŸap kapฤฑ aralฤฑฤŸฤฑndan,
uykusu kaรงmฤฑลŸ bir rumba
dรถkรผlรผr sokaฤŸa รงiรงekli notalarla...

tรผl hafifliฤŸiyle perdeler
รผzerinde gezinen parmaklar
iner sessizliฤŸe dolunay geceleri

ลŸimdi belirsiz kรถลŸelerinde
algeciras'ฤฑn, her รงocuk
bir  paco de lucia'dฤฑr.

kuลŸkulu gรถzlerle bakar
sisleri arasฤฑndan geรงmiลŸ รขfรขkฤฑn.
bir naฤŸme ฤฑลŸฤฑltฤฑsฤฑ... entre dos aguas...

tumturaklฤฑ akdeniz kฤฑvraklฤฑฤŸฤฑ
tutuลŸturur tuzlu tellerin melodilerini.


sonnet for francisco sanchez gomez
a rumba bereft of its sleep
pours out its blooming notes onto the street
through a heavy, half open wooden gate…

fingers wandering on frets
sheer as a tulle go down
on the silence of the fullmoon nights

now at the ambiguous corners
of algeciras every child
is paco de lucia,

glancing doubtfully through
the mists of the bygone horizons.
a melodious glitter… entre dos aguas…

a pompous mediterranean agility
sets fire to the melodies of salty chords


sonetto per francisco sanchez gomez

una rumba priva del suo sonno
riversa le sue note in fiore sulla strada
attraverso un pesante cancello di legno semiaperto...

dita che vagano sui tasti
pure come un tulle che scende
nel silenzio delle notti di luna piena

ora negli angoli ambigui
di Algeciras ogni bambino
รจ Paco di Lucia,

che dร  un'occhiata dubbiosa
attraverso la nebbia degli orizzonti passati.
uno scintillio melodioso ... entre dos aguas ...

una pomposa agilitร  mediterranea
dร  fuoco alle melodie degli accordi salati


Claudia Piccinno’ya
pervรขsฤฑz sone

fersiz daฤŸฤฑlฤฑr akลŸama sesler.
rรปhundaki bรฎรงรขre hevesler-
-den yankฤฑlanฤฑrsa da pesler,
kalbin acฤฑ sรผrgรผnleri besler.

pรผrhรปn, meneviลŸlerdeki rรปyรข
yorgun yรผreฤŸinde mรผcellรข
ฤฑssฤฑzlฤฑฤŸฤฑ yaydฤฑkรงa havรขya,
sarsar seni รผrperti ve รฎmรข...

bellek ki, hazฤฑrdฤฑr yanฤฑlฤฑrken
can vermeye... sislerde ferรขmuลŸ
dรผลŸler aรงฤฑlฤฑr... yankฤฑlฤฑ meltem
gรผndรผzleri sessizce savurmuลŸ-

-tur. yaz, aฤŸฤฑr akลŸamda yanarken,
ifลŸรข eder esrรขrฤฑnฤฑ hรขmuลŸ...


for Claudia Piccinno
reckless sonnet

lusterless sounds spread into vesper tine.
your heart feeds bitter exiles
when the bass sound echoes
in the wretched enthusiasm of your soul.

as the bloody dream in the moire
spreads the polished desolation
of your tired heart into the air,
shudder and allusion rock you…

memory’s ready to perish when
it blunders… forgotten dreams unfold
in mist… echoing breeze
hurls the morning without a sound.

while burning all through the evening,
summer silently reveals its mysteries.


by Ali Gunvar
sonetto audace

Suoni opachi si diffondono al pomeriggio.
Il tuo cuore nutre amari esili
quando il suono dei bassi riecheggia
nell'afflitto entusiasmo della tua anima.

Come il sanguinoso sogno nelle venature
si diffonde nell'aria la lucida desolazione 
del tuo cuore stanco ,
fremiti e allusioni ti sconvolgono...

La memoria รจ pronta a svanire quando
prende un abbaglio... i sogni dimenticati si rivelano
nella nebbia... una brezza che rimanda l'eco
scaglia il mattino senza emettere alcun suono.

Brucia  tutto durante la sera,
l'estate rivela silenziosamente i suoi misteri.

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