Sanat Mozaik

[Terraluna]

Madonna'nin 1997 yilinda En Iyi Ozgun Sarki Akademi Odulu kazanacak olan You Must Love Me sarkisinin videosu 8 Ekim 1996 tarihinde MTV'de yayinlandi.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvzcnx1fVYo

[Terraluna]

Pertekizli yazar José Saramago, hayal gucu, merhameti, ironisi ve merak uyandiran calismalarindan dolayi 8 Ekim 1998 tarihinde Nobel Edebiyat Odulunu kazandi.





"Insanlarin neler yapip yapamayacagi onceden hic belli olmaz, beklemek, zaman tanimak gerekir, her seye egemen olan zamandir, zaman kumar masasinda karsimiza oturan oteki kumarbazdir ve butun kartlar onun elindedir, bizler ancak yasam karsiliginda o masada bir seyler kazaniriz, kendi yasamimiz karsiliginda." �Korluk



"You never know beforehand what people are capable of, you have to wait, give it time, it's time that rules, time is our gambling partner on the other side of the table and it holds all the cards of the deck in its hand, we have to guess the winning cards of life, our lives."

[Terraluna]

Avusturyali oyun ve roman yazari Elfriede Jelinek, 8 Ekim 2004 tarihinde, 'Roman ve oyunlarinda yer verdigi seslerin muzikal akisi, toplum kliseleri ve kliselerin baskin gucunun absurdlugunu ortaya koymasi' gerekcesiyle Nobel Edebiyat Odulunu kazandi.

“Fabrika ve onun altindaki toprak, mulk sahibine ait. Yine de fabrika oldukca memnun, cunku mutlu insanlar mutsuz insanlara nazaran daha cok uretir. Fabrikada calisan kadinlar mulk sahibine ait degiller. Burada calisan kadinlar tamamen ailelerine aittir. Sadece fabrika mülk sahibine ait. Herkes durumun boyle olmasindan gayet memnun.”



“The factory and the plot of land beneath it belong to the owner, that is, a company. The factory is nevertheless happy, when happy people pour into it, because they do more worj than unhappy ones. The women, who work here, do not belong to the factory owner. The women, who work here, belong entirely to their families. Only the buildings belong to the company. so everyone is satisfied.”

[Terraluna]

Fransiz yazar Patrick Modiano, 8 Ekim 2014 tarihinde, ‘Hatira sanatini akil almaz insan hikayelerini dile getirmekte ve isgal altinda hayati ortaya cikarmakta kullanisindan dolayı' gerekcesiyle Nobel Edebiyat Odulunu kazandi.

"Bir onbes yil daha gecti. Hepsi ayni sis perdesi altinda birbiri icinde eriyip kayboldular. Thérése Caisley’den bir daha hicbir haber almadim. Bana verdigi telefon numarasi yanit vermedi, sanki Caisley’ler Majorca’dan hic donmemislerdi. Gecen yildan bu yana, belki olmustu. Belki gelecekte bir Pazar gunu, onu Corvisar sokagi civarinda gorecektim. Agustos ayi; saat gecenin on biri; tren banliyonun ilk duraklarini gecerken yavasladi. Burada, neon lambasinin mor isigi altindaki issiz peronlarda, Majorca’ya gitme hayalleri kurmustuk..." En Uzagindan Unutusun




“Another fifteen years have gone by, all running together in the fog, and I've heard nothing from Thérèse Caisley. There was no answer at the telephone number she'd given me, as if the Caisleys had never come back from Majorca. She might have died sometime in the past year. Maybe I would find her one Sunday on the Rue Corvisart. It's eleven o'clock at night, in August, and the train has slowed down to pass through the first suburban stations. Deserted platforms under the mauve fluorescent lights, where they used to dream of departures for Majorca…”

[Terraluna]

Belaruslu arastirmaci gazeteci, deneme yazari ve tarihci Svetlana Aleksandrovna Aleksiyevic, 8 Ekim 2015 tarihinde ‘Cagimizin acilari ve cesaretini anitlastiran cok sesli eserleri icin’ gerekcesiyle Nobel Edebiyat Odulunu kazandi.

“Kiz cocuklarindan biri bana, seksen alti yili sonbaharinda sinifca tarlaya gonderildiklerini anlatmisti. pancar ve havuc toplamak icin. Her adimda olu fareler cikiyormus karsilarina, onlar da gulusuyormus ; ‘Iste simdi fareler, bocekler ve solucanlar oluyor, sonra tavsanlarla kurtlar olecek. Onlarin ardindan da biz,’ diye gulusuyorlarmis. En son insanlar olecekti. Hayvanlarin ve kuslarin bulunmadigi bir dünyanin neye benzeyecegini hayal etmeye baslamislardi. Farelerin bulunmadigiı bir dunya. Bir sureligine yasayan tek canli insan olacakti. Yapayalniz. Sinekler bile ucusmayacakti etrafta. O cocuklarin yaslari on iki ile on bes arasinda degisiiyordu. Ve tam da boyle bir gelecekleri olacagini dusunuyorlardi.”



“One girl told me their class was sent out into the countryside in the autumn of 1986 to harvest the beetroots and carrots. They were constantly coming across dead mice, and they joked among themselves that the mice would die out, then the beetles and worms, then the hares and wolves, and then us. People would be the last to die out. They began imagining a world without animals and birds.Without mice. For a time, there would be only people alive, all alone. There would not even be flies buzzing around. Those children were aged between twelve and fifteen. That is how they saw their future.”

[Terraluna]

Yugoslav roman yazari Ivo Andric’in dogum yildonumu (9 Ekim 1892)

“Eger gittigin bir cehennemse daha agir gitmek daha hayirli olur. Eger Avusturyalilarin bu makineyi senin gidecegin yere cabuk gitmen ve isini daha cabuk gormen icin icat ettigine inaniyorsan aptalin birisin. Sen yalniz bir yerden obur yere gittigini goruyorsun. Ama makinenin seninle birlikte, senin gibilerden baska neler getirip goturdugunu hic sormuyorsun!.Trenle yolculuk et dostum. Istedigin kadar et. Insallah bir gun seni buyuk bir hayal kirikligina ugratmaz! Bir gun gelecek Avusturyalilar seni, trenleriyle istemedigin ve gitmeyi hic dusunmedigin yerlere de surukleyecekler.” Drina Koprusu



“If you are going to hell, then it is better that you should go slowly. You are an imbecile if you think that the Schwabes have spent their money and brought their machine here only for you to travel quickly and finish you business more conveniently. All you see is that you can ride, but you do not ask what the machine brings here and takes away other than you yourself and others like you. That you can’t get into your head. Ride then, my fine fellow, ride as much as you like, but I greatly fear that all your riding will lead only to a fall one of these fine days. The time will come when the Schwabes will make you ride where you don’t want to go and where you never even dreamt of going.”

[Terraluna]

Senegalli sair, politikaci ve kulturel teorisyen Léopold Sédar Senghor’un dogum yildonumu (9 Ekim 1906)

Ciplak kadin, kara kadin!
Giyinmissin yasamin kendi olan renginle, guzel olan biciminle!
Golgende buyumustum, ellerinin yumusakligi ortmustu gozlerimi.
Sonra, yazin ve oglenin sicaginda, birden buldum seni adanmis
toprak, kavrulan yuksek bir tepenin ustunde
Ve guzelligin ucan bir kartalin cakisi gibi carpiyor yuregime.
Ciplak kadin, kara kadin!
Olgun yemisin SIKI eti, kararmis sarabin acidan koyulasan renginde,
agzimi siirlere iten agiz
Ari cevrenli cayirlik urperiyor Dogu yelinin tutkusu oksayisiyla
Tam tam oymali cevrenin uzerine gerili gergin deri, inildiyor Fatihin
parmaklari altinda
Senin derin icten sesin kutsal ezgisidir en Yuce olanin.
Ciplak kadin, kara kadin!
En ufak bir solukta dinginlesiyor yag, yariscinin bogru ustundeki yag,
Mali Prensi'nin bogru ustunde
Gok tutuslu ceylan, cig damlalari derinin gece gogunde yildiz
O bagislamaz usun tatlari, cilli derinde al altin yansimalaridir.
Sacinin kara golgesinde kara sevdam aydinlanir dogan gunesiyle gozlerinin,
Ciplak kadin, kara kadin!
Yiten guzelligini turkuluyorum, olumsuz bir kaliba sokuyorum onu
Kiskanc bir kader seni yasamin koklerini beslemek için dondurmeden kule.



Naked woman, black woman
Clothed with your colour which is life,
with your form which is beauty!
In your shadow I have grown up; the
gentleness of your hands was laid over my eyes.
And now, high up on the sun-baked
pass, at the heart of summer, at the heart of noon,
I come upon you, my Promised Land,
And your beauty strikes me to the heart
like the flash of an eagle.
Naked woman, dark woman
Firm-fleshed ripe fruit, sombre raptures
of black wine, mouth making lyrical my mouth
Savannah stretching to clear horizons,
savannah shuddering beneath the East Wind's
eager caresses
Carved tom-tom, taut tom-tom, muttering
under the Conqueror's fingers
Your solemn contralto voice is the
spiritual song of the Beloved.
Naked woman, dark woman
Oil that no breath ruffles, calm oil on the
athlete's flanks, on the flanks of the Princes of Mali
Gazelle limbed in Paradise, pearls are stars on the
night of your skin
Delights of the mind, the glinting of red
gold against your watered skin
Under the shadow of your hair, my care
is lightened by the neighbouring suns of your eyes.
Naked woman, black woman,
I sing your beauty that passes, the form
that I fix in the Eternal,
Before jealous fate turn you to ashes to
feed the roots of life.

[Terraluna]

Amerikali yazar Belva Plain’in dogum yildonumu (9 Ekim 1915)



“Ne kadar da caresiziz, kafesteki kuslar gibi, hirs bizi yakaladiginda!”