Seven Poems by Behçet Necatigil


A translation by Neil P. Doherty and Gökçenur Ç of seven poems by seminal Turkish poet Behçet Necatigil, printed here as an accompaniment to this essay on Necatigil by Gonca Özmen

 

~

 

The Ring

 

          Scuffling in the ring someone

          Though no one else is there

Into virtue they forever pushed us,

Laying mines in our fields.

Fugitives from the fire they smuggled

Worlds crumbling like us.

 

What was that? pockets rent

By money crying, me, me.

Bank after bank on one of

The busiest streets of the city.

 

Night. Now over:

Were they here on this street

Deserted and dark – this is all they’d see.

They pushed, night fell, everyone retreated

And yet they arrived 

How can I speak of this?

       Scuffling in the ring someone

       Though many are there.

 

 

The Flowers of Fear 

 

No flowers of the prophet – 

Nor bluebells, nor cyclamens; 

It was always flowers of fear 

That graced our pots.

 

From the skies that we stared at frightened and jaded 

Hope in tomorrow is all we ever asked 

Children, homes and bread… 

But happiness, is this all there is?

 

Should a seed green in a poisonous ground 

From the hemlock it has drunk blooms 

A flower of fear, a corrupted crop. 

It needs to be grafted; it needs to be cut 

But isn’t it too late for us. 

 

Every line we reached became a wall 

When we couldn’t scale the slippery moss 

And what comes next you know well 

The world is beautiful… 

If in it you don’t dwell. 

 

 

Panic

 

Now Pan has abandoned the deserted meadows

For the cities where millions dwell

At noon during the long, scorching summers

He wanders over concrete and asphalt,

 

From luxurious pads in apartment blocks

Into the flashiest cars he leaps,

Keeping always those huge banks at his back,

And his minions there by his side.

 

He trains his sights on the quiet, the inarticulate,

Avoiding those who might bare their teeth

By factory wall and dull fortress gate

He pounces on the meagre joys 

Of exhausted men of haggard women.

 

Not only in the scorching summers

But in each and every day of the great cities

He combs the boulevards in silent and treacherous laughter, 

Coming face to face with him the destitute 

Turn dizzy as barefoot they pound the hard, wet asphalt.

 

While in the city’s belly and in its remote corners

The needy, hungry and sick crawl

He isn’t quite done with humanity yet

He stokes this civilisation into fury

With atomic bombs and ballistic missiles.

 

If tomorrow, he lurks in the dark headlines,

Is hidden in bread and poisoned water 

Or if his shadow has fallen on children’s faces

What hope can the like of us have in the future.

 

In every colour, race and drop of sweat

Among all of the oppressed…Pan!

If we cannot live with dignity in this world

What have all the past centuries left to us?

 

 

Bed

 

Somewhere everything is like the last days of Pompeii.

We are as we were when the lava was poured over us.

As for clothes strip & discard those old ones.

 

There so far away – fallen behind

He thinks: who are they who came & took

My coarse old clothes

To dress me in coarser ones still.

 

Sleeping so long on the mattress they laid down

That looked so different then,

But was really always the same.

 

Perhaps once it was some lovely, ever changing pattern 

As childhood restores the old glass cabinets....

No matter how much they turn its face it still

Falls behind.

 

 

Harbour

 

Their masts wrecked in heavy storms; the ships come &

Take refuge in us  we think we have found them.

 

They see nothing but the far distances.

We mend them  they go & we stay.

 

Then, at night- let this be the last, the last,

Send no more  we beg of the sea.

 

And then our loneliness grows

 more terrible still.

 

 

Guest Worker 

 

Quickly it dries in the summer room

The laundry I hang out 

Slowly I step through the doors 

Perhaps word now will come.

 

Strangers venture out at night 

The deserted streets all ours

In the dark a song

That goes unseen by day.

 

In the evenings come anguish

The need for, the revenge of home

Darkened and greyed

We will return one day.

 

 

Bearing Witness to the Age

 

Fling it off into the distance

And right back the boomerang comes

 

Empty squares, from top to bottom, 

And from left to right,

So which letters should I pick

To solve the riddle?

Jagged

Ruins of ancient battlements

Then inside like some

Suicide the newer layers

 

Were the deception of 

Companions known

Who would you believe

Which roads would you walk?

 

Childhood, once again, only childhood

And though it was bitter

We are grateful for it, 

What other happy state could take its place? 

If those grandmothers and daughters and houses 

Exist no longer, 

Whose land then is this

Over which I dwelled too much?

 

The orders

Sundering me from it, and it from me

Disrupt and do not leave us to ourselves,

Like me, so many values have just passed away.

 

Yet I am still there, resisting this age

What am I to you, what are you to me?

An old tale or something 

Once dreamed.

 

Fling it off into the distance

And right back comes the boomerang

 

Behçet Necatigil; translated from the Turkish by Neil P. Doherty & Gökçenur Ç.


Behçet Necatigil (Translated by Neil P. Doherty & Gökçenur Ç) // May 2025


Background image: Alinari, Pompeii: The Columns of the Stabian Baths Gymnasium (Photograph by Alinari, 1931. 1931; Wellcome Collection).