Turk sair, romanci, dusunur, deneme yazari, gazeteci, senarist ve elestirmen Attila Ilhan’in olum yildonumu ( 10 Ekim 2005 )
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You are indispensable; how can you not know
that you’re like nails riveting my brain ?
I see your eyes as ever-expanding dimensions.
You are indispensable; how can you not know
that I burn within, at the thought of you ?
Trees prepare themselves for autumn;
can this city be our lost Istanbul ?
Now clouds disintegrate in the darkness
as the street lights flicker
and the streets reek with rain.
You are indispensable, and yet you are absent ...
Love sometimes is akin to terror:
a man tires suddenly at nightfall,
of living enslaved to the razor at his neck.
Sometimes he wrings his hands,
expunging other lives from his existence.
Sometimes whichever door he knocks
echoes back only heartache.
A screechy phonograph is playing in Fatih ...
a song about some Friday long ago.
I stop to listen from a vacant corner,
longing to bring you an untouched sky,
but time disintegrates in my hands.
Whatever I do, wherever I go,
you are indispensable, and yet you are absent ...
Are you the blue child of June?
Ah, no one knows you, no one knows!
Your deserted eyes are like distant freighters ...
perhaps you are boarding in Yesilköy ?
Are you drenched there, shivering with the rain
that leaves you blind, beset, ravished,
with wind-disheveled hair?
Whenever I think of life
seated at the wolves’ table,
shameless, yet without soiling our hands ...
Yes, whenever I think of life,
I begin with your name, defying the silence,
and your secret tides surge within me
making this voyage inevitable.
You are indispensable; how can you not know ?
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Quando i tuoi occhi toccavano i miei
Era la mia catastrofe, e piangevo
Sapevo che non mi amavi
Sentivo che amavi qualcun altro
Un ragazzo magro come una paglia
Una persona inutile a mio parere
E quando lo vedevo davanti a me
Temevo che lo uccidessi
Era la mia catastrofe, e piangevo
Quando passavo da Macka
C’erano sempre delle navi al porto
Gli alberi sorridevano come gli uccelli
Un vento mi rubava la coscienza
E tu fumavi tranquillamente
Bruciavi le punte delle mie dita
Mi raffreddavo, tremando
Era la mia catastrofe, e piangevo
Le sere finivano come i romanzi
Gezabele giaceva nel sangue
Una nave partiva dal porto
E tu partivi con essa
Partivi per lui
Partivi come le candele nella benzina
Ci rimanevi, fino alla mattina
Un ragazzo magro come una paglia
Quando sorrideva assomigliava ad un cadavere
E quando ti abbracciava…
Era la mia catastrofe, e piangevo.
