The Rain
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07 August 2018
Author :  

 

|| Metin  Cengiz ||

 

Metin  Cengiz:   poet and writer (b. 3 May 1953, Göle). He attended to Göle primary School (1964), Kars Alparslan High School (1972), and graduated from Erzurum Atatürk University, Faculty of Basic Sciences and Foreign Languages, Department of French (1977). During his years at the university, he worked as a civil officer at the Turkish Statistical Institute for a short time (1973). Meanwhile, he completed his studies at Marmara University, Department of French.

          After working as a teacher in Muş, he resigned from his duty, returned back to İstanbul and began to work as a proofreader, editor and translator at publishing houses.  He wrote particularly on the problems of poetry in the  reviews Hurriyet Gösteri, Varlık and in various newspapers. He established the Şiirden Publishing House in 2005, in collaboration with his friends, to publish poems and essays concerning poetry theory.

           He won the Behçet Necatigil Poetry Award in 1966 with his book Şarkılar Kitabı (The Book of Songs), Melih Cevdet Anday Poetry Award in 2010 with his book Bütün Şiirleri 1 (Collected poems 1), Bütün Şiirleri 2 (collected poems 2) and Tudor Arghezi İnternational Poetry Award  in 2011 (Romanya). By 2014, the city of Mersin in Turkey's most prestigious award received the Prize for Literature. He is a member of Writers Syndicate of Turkey, the Association of Turkish PEN Writers and the Turkish Authors Association. In 2014, he is received the Literature Prize of the city of Mersin, one of Turkey's most prestigious award.

 

 

The Rain

 

-1-

 

Yesterday I watched the fall of the rain

The rain that turns everything to sky

Now all hangs in the air

As if frozen for a moment before falling to ground

The mind bewildered between both elements

Hovers there like a bird in flight

 

I caught a glimpse of you,—your rain like glance rain like body-

And hurled myself into the falling rain, clasping on to your body

Onlookers pitied the fool saying ah he must have lost his mind—

So I roared: Keep your mind for yourselves just do not touch the falling rain

 

-2-

 

The rain and its bold drops strike the soul

Sweeping up in whistles the verses in the mind

And life is borne away to the waters

My love your face your eyes are borne away

On the bridge it is the past I summon up

Fists in the air and marches, police batons and gendarme guns

Whatever has been lived lingers like dream in the sealed up distance

 

I am watching in joy the fire lit by the rain on the streets

The fire of rain left in the human soul, like love, like hope

We're in the place of fire, ah everywhere is on fire

Such is life I think

Like steel it chokes my neck

I stretch my hand out to the past

The rain holds my hand in place only of my ruined years

It turns into water, and flows

My fifty four years lost in pursuit of a struggle

 

 -3-

 

Like a long lament the rains falls

As if dew were wetting the windows

The hinges of the world break off

And the sky lands pulling out its hair

 

Remember me in this weather my love

In the fires lit by the rain

In the fire that burned me on the street

Remember me my dear in all that ruins

 

I who am ruin to this world

  

-4-

 

Tired evening lonely evening is sad

So, fall rain, let the world drink of it and revive

As if waking from a long sleep

 

As a child I learned of birth

But I have never understood death

***

 

This year this garden’s roses will not bloom

Be the rain on the street and scrub me clean

                                    …

I'm the water flowing over the streets

Be my gully and my crowded face

Let me flow with you to eternity.

 

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