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Who is your favourite Turkic Poet?(REVISE

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Poll Question: Who is your favourite Turkic Poet?(REVISED LIST)
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2 [10.00%]
4 [20.00%]
1 [5.00%]
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  Quote Bulldog Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Topic: Who is your favourite Turkic Poet?(REVISE
    Posted: 01-Oct-2006 at 13:41
Who is your favourite Turkic Poet?
 
(Gok_TorukSmile)
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  Quote Bulldog Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 01-Oct-2006 at 13:44
Fuzuli - Azerbaycan (Ottoman era)
 
Ali Sher Nava'i - Afganistan Herat (Timurid era)
 
Nedim - Istanbul (Ottoman era)
 
Yusuf Has Hajib - Eastern Turkistan (Karakhanid era)
 
Yunus Emre - Turkey (Seljuk era)
 
Nazim Hikmet - Turkey (Republican era)
 
Koroglu - All Turkic regions
 
Karacagolan - Turkmenistan-Azerbaycan-Turkey
 
Maqtymquly - Turkmenistan
      What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal.
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  Quote Giordano Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 02-Oct-2006 at 17:11
I like Nazim Hikmet but he isn't my favourite ...
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  Quote mamikon Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 03-Oct-2006 at 00:37
Koroglu wasn't a poet, but a legendary character or a legend story I believe.


Edited by mamikon - 03-Oct-2006 at 00:39
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  Quote gok_toruk Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 03-Oct-2006 at 03:51
Ofcourse Maqtumquly Wink...
Sajaja bramani totari ta, raitata raitata, radu ridu raitata, rota.
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  Quote Bulldog Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 03-Oct-2006 at 04:25
     

Gok_Toruk do you have any English translations of his great poems? could you post them if you have, or if you've translated them yourself.

Mamikon, your correct, Koroglu poems exist in nearly all Turkic communities but he seems to be more of a folk hero with works attributed to him.

I'll replace him with another poet.

Mamikon here is an Armenian poet MECNUNI of the Ottoman era who wrote, "Halk" and "Divan" literature, to do so you had to be very well educated and imaginative.

Here is a poem by him

Bana aşkın peymnesin iirdin

Bana aşkın peymnesin iirdin
Şimdi ben olmuşum mestin rzigr
Kimini şd edp konup grdn
Bana mı muhalif estin rzigr

Blbl gibi cda kıldın glmden
Yd eyledin vatanımdan ilimden
eşm-i mestanımı aldın elimden
Beni ldrmek mi kasdın rzigr

Ne yaman bend ettin beni sevdaya
mrmn hsılın verdin hebaya
Hışm eyleyip beni saldın ferdaya
Bana mı erişti destin rzigr

Mecnun'yim terk-i diyar eyledim
Eşimden dostumdan firar eyledim
Şimdi yd elleri karar eyledim
Sılamdan kısmetim kestin rzigr


Karşıdan salınma dilber

Karşıdan salınma dilber
Sana kurban olayım mı
İsmin okur gnl ezber
Sevdi canım leyim mi

Bu şıkın mihnet ile
Geti mr zahmet ile
Hey insafsız hasret ile
Şyle mahrum kalayım mı

Sevdiğim beni yd ettin
Gayrısına gnl kattın
Kulunu yabana attın
Seni Hakk'a salayım mı

Mecnun dşt bu derde
Sevdası yanıyor serde
Tenhaca bulduğum yerde
Bir şeftali alayım mı

(Could somebody translate these, I'll have a go later)


What are the suggestions for replacing Koroglu with? lets hear them.

I was thinking "Bak'i" or "Mehmet Akif Ersoy"
    

Edited by Bulldog - 03-Oct-2006 at 04:26
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  Quote barbar Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 04-Oct-2006 at 03:27

Definately Alishir Nawayi. He saved Turkic poetry. He surpassed any of the Persian poets of his age.

Lutpi should also be mentioned, IIRC, Abdurahman Jami (famous Persian poet) once said he was willing to give up all of his poems for Lutpi's two line of poem.



    

Edited by barbar - 05-Oct-2006 at 07:12
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  Quote EGETRK Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 04-Oct-2006 at 14:08
i think yusuf has hajib wrote 'Kutadgu Bilig'...İf he is in this list,Kaşgarlı Mahmut to,he must be in this list...
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But I have borders guarded by the mighty chest of a believer...
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  Quote kajdom Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 04-Oct-2006 at 19:03
Ustad shahryar (Mohammad Hossein Shahriar) from azerbaijan.
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  Quote barbar Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 05-Oct-2006 at 07:16
Originally posted by EGETRK

i think yusuf has hajib wrote 'Kutadgu Bilig'...İf he is in this list,Kaşgarlı Mahmut to,he must be in this list...

    
Mehmut qeshqeri wasn't poet. He was linguistist.

Yusuf has Hajib was more philosopher than a poet, IMO.



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  Quote Bulldog Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 05-Oct-2006 at 11:23
Did Yusuf Has Hajib not also write poetry Barbar? also why isn't this in "Steppe Section" anymore? its difficult to find this post now.


All about Magtymguly Pyragy

    

http://www.magtymguly.org/


The Nightingale

I'm a nightingale. Here's my sad song
From garden of roses. Now I've begun.
See the tears in my eyes? There they belong.
What pleasure in life when loving is done?

Kohl becomes my lover's eyes1
Darker than the evening skies1
Lips as sweet as butterflies,
Warm the jungles of her hair.

Alas, my soul in frailty
Takes comfort in her cruelty -
Even her eyebrows chasten me!
So how endure that maiden's stare?

And yet in grieving I rejoice -
Her raven hair allows no choice.
My songbird of the tuneful voice
Makes madrigals of parting fair.

Why does my heart neglect its duties?
Because she is the Khan of beauties
And as my orchard where the fruit is
Perfumes gardens everywhere.

She lives where towers with sunrise flame.
Her promise was - but mine's the blame....
Mengli's the music that's her name -
Yet there's an end to our affair.

I'm a nightingale. This is my song
For her I love, who dwells among
Bowers where I may no more belong.
Now Makhtumkuli's heart1s laid bare.




The Pains Of Love

Love caught fire within my heart, and burned and blazed.
Smoke whirling in the wind whipped me like something crazed
Fate caught me3 spinning me upon its wheel.
Who came to see me through the eyes of real desire?
Separation was a storm - both flood and fire.

Swept on1 I gained the shores of love, shipwrecked - so null
Real and unreal were hurricanes within my skull.
I fell exhausted, lost in wonderment.
When love unsheathed its dagger, yes, I caught its blade!
Love stripped me naked, left me stranded without shade.

My body held no strength, my corpse no uttering soul
I staggered round, confused and far from whole,
Not weary or alert, alive or dead.
A cloud of sorrow sank to hide my sacrifice
As destiny's key turned and locked me in its vice.

I had to fight to make griefs spectre disappear:
But Love instructed me and made the problem clear
Love sorrowed and assisted me to heal.
When beauty bloomed, it brought spring joys of a fresh start.
I have to say all this, dear friends ! It broke my heart.

0, hopeful slave to the beloved's charms, whereby
I lost my heart! A songbird of sweet tongues was I -
Encaged ! But separation scorched my soul.
Then yearning burned me up, to ash was turned my mind.
And Makhtumkuli's life was tossed upon the wind.



Some poems translated into English

http://www.turkmenhost.com/documents/Song/index.html

More information

http://www.turkmens.com/Documents_files/documents/English.html
    
    

Edited by Bulldog - 05-Oct-2006 at 11:26
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  Quote The Hidden Face Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 05-Oct-2006 at 14:23
Other: Necip Fazil Kisakurek, Bulldog.
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  Quote Mortaza Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 05-Oct-2006 at 14:30
I like him too, but his poems have a dark mood.
 
Mehmet Akif is not bad too(If you understand his poems), unfortunately we have a langauge barrier.Cry
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  Quote EGETRK Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 05-Oct-2006 at 15:42
ziya gkalp,
The lands of the of the West may be armored with walls of steel,
But I have borders guarded by the mighty chest of a believer...
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  Quote barbar Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Oct-2006 at 09:56
Originally posted by Bulldog

Did Yusuf Has Hajib not also write poetry Barbar? also why isn't this in "Steppe Section" anymore? its difficult to find this post now.

    


Yes he did, his book "Qut adghu Bilik" was writen in poetric form. Maybe he is the earliest known Turkic poet. But I think he is more than a poet, his work is mainly philosophical, full of wisdom. In my subjective view, a thinker is always higher than a poet.

I'm sorry for this inconvenience, I think this is the right place for this thread. Moreover, more people who are interested in cultural history can see it and participate in the discussions of Turkic culture, and also forumers who are usually just come to the steppe section and other few sections, now have to check more places in this forum and might find something interesting.




   
    
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  Quote Antioxos Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Oct-2006 at 10:25
The only poem that i know is from Mawlānā Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī and i really like a lot.
 
 
What is to be done, O Muslims? for I do not recognize myself.
I am neither Christian, nor Jew, nor Magian, nor Muslim.
I am not of the East, nor of the West, nor of the land, nor of the sea;
I am not of Nature's mint, nor of the circling heaven.
I am not of earth, nor of water, nor of air, nor of fire;
I am not of the empyrean, nor of the dust, nor of existence, nor of entity.
I am not of India, nor of China, nor of Bulgaria, nor of Saqsin
I am not of the kingdom of 'Iraqian, nor of the country of Khorasan
I am not of the this world, nor of the next, nor of Paradise, nor of Hell
I am not of Adam, nor of Eve, nor of Eden and Rizwan.
My place is the Placeless, my trace is the Traceless 
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  Quote Bulldog Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Oct-2006 at 15:39
Barbar
Yes he did, his book "Qut adghu Bilik" was writen in poetric form. Maybe he is the earliest known Turkic poet. But I think he is more than a poet, his work is mainly philosophical, full of wisdom. In my subjective view, a thinker is always higher than a poet.
 
 
I agree but most famous Turkic poets wern't just poets, in contrast to this idea we have in the West of poets being a bit "soft" and "femennine". Many famous Turkic poets were also warriors, leaders, folk hero's, campaigners of the ordinary people's rights and so on.
 
How about "Ahmet Yuknaki" he was also a great Uygur poet, Uygur Turks actually have one of the richest literary histories of the Turks.
 
Actually Yusus Has Hajib's the "Kutadgu Bilil" is a fantastic literary work, its often considered as belonging to the "Mirror for Princes" but it differs in that the philosophies are for all people not just princes. Its not very well known yet in the West, I hope good translations are made and then studies opened for this fascinating millenia old book.
 
 
 
 
 
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  Quote EGETRK Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Oct-2006 at 16:04
Originally posted by mamikon

Koroglu wasn't a poet, but a legendary character or a legend story I believe.
u are wrong...He have the poets who challange to Governor Of Bolu...One of the her Poems name is :Benden Selam Olsun Bolu Beyine(Greetings To Bolu Bey From Me)

And in my memory,i have some lines of his another poet:

Mert Dayanır Namert Kaar
Meydan Gmbr Gmbrdenir
Beyler Beyi Divan Aar
Meydan Gmbr gmbrdenir
...
The lands of the of the West may be armored with walls of steel,
But I have borders guarded by the mighty chest of a believer...
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  Quote Bulldog Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Oct-2006 at 16:05
NAZIM HIKMET
 
http://www.cs.rpi.edu/~sibel/poetry/nazim_hikmet.html
 
 
http://www.exil-archiv.de/audio/hikmet/hikmet64.mp3
 
 
THE STRANGEST CREATURE ON EARTH

You're like a scorpion, my brother,
you're in a cowardly darkness like a scorpion.
You're like a sparrow, my brother,
you're in a sparrow's flutter.
You're like a mussel, my brother,
closed as a mussel, tranquil.
And you're dreadful
       as the mouth of an extinct volcano, my brother.
Not one,
     not five,
           you're in millions, unfortunately.
You're like a sheep, my brother,
when the cloaked drover raises his stick
you join the herd at once
and almost proudly run to the slaughter house.
You're the strangest creature on earth, that is,
even stranger than the fish in the sea
                       which doesn't know the sea.
And in this world, this tyranny
                              is thanks to you.
And if we're starved, tired, covered with blood
and if we're still being crushed like grapes for our wine
                  the fault is yours,
                              - though I can't bring myself to say it -
                   but a lot of it, my dear brother, is yours.
 
 
 
OF YOUR HANDS AND LIES

Grave like all stones,
sad like all song sang in prison,
clumsy, heavy like all beasts of burden,
and like hungry children's offended faces, your hands.

Skillful, light like bees,
full like milky breasts,
brave like nature,
and hiding their friendly touch under their rough skin,
                                                                         your hands.

This world is not balanced on the bull's horn,
                  this world is balanced on your hands.

And human beings, alas, my human beings,
they feed you on lies,
but you're starving,
you need to be fed on meat, on bread.
And without eating fully even once at a white table,
you leave this world which has lots of fruits
                                              on its every branch.

Human beings, alas, my human beings,
especially in Asia, in Africa,
                 Near East, Middle East, Pacific islands,
                                                    and my countrymen,
that is, more than seventy percent of all people,

you're old and absentminded like your hands,
you're curious, amazed and young like your hands.

Human beings, alas, my human beings,
my European, my American,
you're smart, bold and forgetful like your hands,
like your hands you're quick to persuade,
                                             easy to get rid of...


Human beings, alas, my human beings,
if the antennas lie,
if the rotatives lie,
if books lie,
if the poster on the wall and the advertisement in the column lie,
if the naked calves of girls on the screen lie,
if prayers lie,
if lullabies lie,
if dreams lie,
if the fiddler at the tavern lies,
if moonlight on the nights of hopeless days lies,
if words lie,
if colours lie,
if voices lie,
if living on your hands
                    everything but your hands
                                                      and everybody lie,
it's to make your hands obedient like clay,
blind like darkness,
stupid like sheepdogs,
                           so that your hands won't rebel,
and so that in this mortal, in this livable world
                      where we are guests for such a short period
                     this merchants' sultanate, this tyranny won't end..
 
 
THE STORY OF BLACK SNAKE
(A FRAGMENT FROM HUMAN LANDSCAPES)

(KaraYilan was an Independance War hero for the Turks in the Antep region who was in resistance wars against the French, after the resistance and victory over the French Antep was renamed GAZI-ANTEP, Warrior Antep, KaraYilan translated means Black Snake)
 
 
 
The people of Antep are fighters.
They can hit a flying crane in the eye,
a running rabbit in its hind leg.
And on their Arabian horses
they sit tall and slim as young green cypresses.

Antep is a hot
                  hard place.
The people of Antep are fighters,
the people of Antep are brave.

Black Snake
             before he became Black Snake,
worked in one of the Antep villages.
Maybe he had a good life,
                           maybe not.
(They didn't leave him time to think about it.)
He lived like a field mouse,
scared as a field mouse.
"Bravery" comes with land, guns, and horses.
He didn't have any horses, guns, or land.
Black Snake
had the same twig-thin neck
               and the same big head
                             before he became Black Snake...

When the heathens entered Antep,
the people of Antep
            flushed him out saklayan
                          of the pistachio tree
                                         where he'd hidden in fear.

They put a horse under him
                   and a Mauser
                                  in his hand.
Antep is a hard place.
Green lizards
                     on red rocks.
And hot clouds pacing the sky
                                     back and forth...

The heathens held the hills.
They had artillery.
The people of Antep
                    were hemmed in on the flat plain.
The heathens' shrapnel fell like rain.
It dug up the earth by the roots.
The heathens held the hills.
The blood of Antep flowed. kanıydı.

Black Snake
took cover behind a rosebush
               before he became Black Snake.
The bush was so scrawny,
and his head so big and his fear so great,
that he lay flat on his belly
                with his gun still empty...

Antep is a hot
            hard place.
The people of Antep are fighters,
the people of Antep are brave.
But the heathens had artillery.
Nothing could be done, it was fate :
       the people of Antep would have to surrender
                                the flat plain to the heathens.

Before he became Black Snake,
                Black Snake didn't really care
                if the heathens held Antep till doomsday.
Because he had never been taught to think.
He lived on the earth like a field mouse,
scared as a field mouse.

His cover was a rosebush.
He was lying under the rosebuch, flat on his belly,
             when behind a white rock
                          a black snake
                                    raised its head -
skin all spangled,
                   eyes fire-red,
                             tongue forked.
Suddenly a bullet
           tore off its head.
The snake collapsed.

Black Snake
       before he became Black Snake,
saw the black snake's end
and shouted out
                   the first thought of his life :
    "Take heed, mad heart -
     Death found the black snake behind the white rock
     and will find you out even inside a steel box..."

And he who'd lived like a field mouse,
scared as a field mouse,
sprang into action.
The people of Antep were awed
                                 and quickly fell in behind him.
They made mincemeat of the heathens in the hills.
And he who'd lived like field mouse,
scared as a field mouse,
                    became "Black Snake". :
      What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal.
Albert Pine

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  Quote EGETRK Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Oct-2006 at 16:15
i do not like Nazım...Firstly,he is a comunist and propogander of USSR,second, he have a poems(Burjuva Kemal) who contain insults to Mustafa Kemal
The lands of the of the West may be armored with walls of steel,
But I have borders guarded by the mighty chest of a believer...
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