Sanat Mozaik

[Terraluna]

Alman ressam Max Frey’in dogum yildonumu (16 Nisan 1874)

Meerestiefe (Sea-creature, ca. 1926)




Selbstportrait, Weiter! Aufwärts! (Continue! Upwards! Self-portrait, 1934)

[Terraluna]

Alman ressam Josef Madlener’in dogum yildonumu (16 Nisan 1881)

Der Berggeist (The Mountain-spirit, c.1920)




Frühlingslandschaft mit Grünten, im Vordergrund Mädchen vor einem Wegkreuz und Schafe, unbekanntes Datum

[Terraluna]

Rumen asilli Fransiz sair, yazar, Dadacilik akiminin kurucularindan Tristan Tzara'nin dogum yildonumu (16 Nisan 1896)

"Inandirmak istemedigim icin, kendimden soz ediyorum hep. Baskalarini kendi irmagima suruklemeye hakkim yok, kimseyi beni izlemeye zorlamiyorum, herkes kendi sanatini kendince yapar – eger yildizlarin katina hizla yukselmenin zevkini tatmissa, olulerin ya da dogurgan kasilmalarin cicekleriyle suslu madenlere inebilmisse."



"Je parle toujours de moi puisque je ne veux convaincre, je n'ai pas le droit d'entraîner d'autres dans mon fleuve, je n'oblige personne à me suivre et tout le monde fait son art à sa façon, s'il connaît la joie montant en flèches vers les couches astrales, ou celle qui descend dans les mines aux fleurs de cadavres et de spasmes fertiles."



"Bir gazete alin
bir makas alin
bir yazi secin ve yapmak istediginiz siiriniz icin dilediginiz yeri
keserek cikartin
sonra yapmak istediginiz siir icin kelimeleri yazidan adamakilli kesip cikarin ve hepsini bir kabin icine koyun
yavasca karistirin
sonra kestiginiz kagitlari birer birer disari cikarin
cikardiginiz siraya gore durustce kagida gecirin
siir size benzedi
ve iste bu sizsiniz: bayagi hayvan surusu sizi anlayip takdir etmeyecek ama siz hos, duyarli, sinirsiz ve ozgun bir yazar oldunuz."

[Terraluna]

Ingiliz sinema yonetmeni, aktor, yazar, film muzigi bestecisi, kurgucu ve komedyen (Sir Charles Spencer Chaplin) Charlie Chaplin'in dogum yildonumu (16 Nisan 1889)





"Benim acim birinin gulusune sebep olabilir. Ama benim gulusum asla birinin acisina sebep olmamali."�

[Terraluna]

Bulgar sair Elisaveta Bagriana'nin dogum yildonumu (16 Nisan 1893)

Portreleri yok bende atalarimin
Ne de soy kutugume iliskin kitaplar
Bilmiyorum turkulerini onlarin
Yabancidir bana gittikleri yollar.

Fakat atesli sakaklarimda benim de
O kara, isyanci kandir atan.
Ve adina ask denilen o ucurumun
Odur beni ucuna iten.

Buyuk ninem, sicak kanli, civan
Ipek bir yasmak gozlerinin altinda
Kacmadi mi bir geceyarisi
Tutkudan eriyen bir yabanciyla?

Kuzgundan kara o kuheylani
Animsar Tuna boyu bahceleri
Ikisini de yatagindan
Ruzgar kurtarmisti, silip izleri ...

Belki de bundandir carpmasi yuregimin
Kirlar uzerinde bagirinca kugu.
Uzak, mavi kiyi cizgisini sevisim
Ve kirbac altinda at kosusunu ...

Nasil bir insanim, ben de bilmiyorum!
Bildigim sadece, olsem de yitsem de
Senin kizinim ben ey sevgili toprak
Ey eski Bulgar topragi, yurdum.



No portraits of my grandfathers are kept
fixed in a family picture-book.
I know nothing of the testaments they left,
The lives they led, their souls, their looks.

But I sense the wandering, self-willed beat
of the ancient blood of all my kin.
Its raging rouses me from sleep,
it draws me to our first-found sin.

Perhaps some grandmother — dark-eyed,
with silken pantaloons and turban —
escaped at darkest night to ride
with an alien, fair-featured Khan.

Perhaps across the Danubian Plain
hooves came drumming on the chase.
Yet they were saved from being slain
for the wind smoothed our their every trace.

Perhaps because of this I'm gripped
by lands unseized by human eyes,
by horses that fly at the crack of the whip,
the wind-splashed, free-affirming cry.

Perhaps along my way I'll falter
and lies and sin may show my worth.
But I am, indeed, your faithful daughter,
by bond of blood, my mother earth.

[Terraluna]

Amerikali aktris ve yonetmen Martin Scorsese'nin annesi Catherine Scorsese'nin dogum yildonumu (16 Nisan 1912)

[Terraluna]

Misir asilli Fransiz yazar ve sair Edmond Jabès'in dogum yildonumu (16 Nisan 1912)

Yesil olsaydin eger, agacin gozyaslari olurdun.
Mavi olsaydin eger, havanin dayanagi olurdun.
Ama sen bensin ve bu sussuz satolardir
birlikte kurdugumuz. O satolarin her birinde
kurtardigim mutsuz bir Prenses var. Her usak icin bir
sevgili var ve bu hep benim sevdigim.
Beyaz olsaydin eger, bogulurdun gozlerde.
Kirmizi olsaydin eger, atesin sevgilisi
olurdun.
Siyahsin, bu yuzden erisebiliyorum sana
ve urkmus mucizeler taratiyoruz birlikte.



Si tu étais verte, tu serais les larmes de l'arbre.
Si tu étais bleue, tu serais le socle de l'air.
Mais tu es moi-même et ce sont d'austères châteaux que
nous élevons ensemble. Il y a une Princesse malheureuse
dans chacun d'eux que je délivre. Il y a une aimée pour
chaque page et c'est toujours celle que j'aime.
Si tu étais blanche, tu te noierais dans les yeux.
Si tu étais rouge, tu serais l'amante du feu.
Noire, tu es à ma portée et nous faisons ensemble des
miracles redoutés.

[Terraluna]

Turk sair, yazar ve cevirmen Behcet Necatigil’in dogum yildonumu (16 Nisan 1916)

Bir yerde her sey Pompei’nin son gunleri—
Nasil dokulmusse lav oyleyiz ustumuze,
Bir elbise mi ki cikar at eskileri.

Epeyce de uzaklarda—geriler
Dusunur: kim bunlar, geldiler, aldilar
Eski benim cul giysilerimi
Gene cul giydirdiler.

Uyumak uzun bir sure, serdikleri dosekte
Cok baska gorunmustu–
Oysa hep ayni silte.

Bir zaman belki guzel, degisen bir model–
Yeniler derken eski vitrinleri, cocukluk…
Ne kadar cevirseler yuzunu
Geriler.



Everywhere we can see the last days of Pompeii—
We look as we did when the lava was poured upon us.
Can we wear new clothes? Get rid of those old things.

They remain so distant, those ancient
Memories: whoever they were, they took
All the clothing from my closets,
To make me wear their old clothes again.

They had slept for so long, spread upon mattresses
That seemed very different from mine,
But were the same.

Perhaps it would be nice to change all these patterns—
Rejuvenating old looks, like returning to our childhoods…
Until the circling of the church clock’s hands
Reminds us.



Love, you put off till tomorrow
Timid, reverent, tongue-tied.
Unknown you remained
To all your kin.

Through concerns never ending,
(I know you never wanted it that way)
The feelings that welled in your heart
Never swelled
When a glance was enough to reveal everything.

You expected longer days to come
Speaking of love in minutes was ugly to you
That the years would pass in such a hurry,
In such a fuss never crossed your mind.

In your secret garden
There were flowers
blossoming at night, alone.
You regarded too trifling to give
Or somehow, you hadn’t enough time.