Sanat Mozaik

[Terraluna]

Amerikali roman yazari Harper Lee, klasik romani Bulbulu Oldurmek (To Kill a Mockingbird), 11 Temmuz 1960 tarihinde J. B. Lippincott & Co. araciligiyla yayinladi.







"Cogunlugun kuralina uymayan tek sey insanin vicdanidir."



"Bir insani, sorunu onun acisindan dusunmeye alismadikca anlaman olanaksizdir.Derisinin icine girip gezineceksin."

[Terraluna]

Iran Yeni Dalgasi'nin en etkili isimlerinden olan Iranli yonetmen, senarist ve yapimci Cafer Penahi'nin dogum gunu (11 Temmuz 1960)

[Terraluna]

Amerikali sair ve kisa oyku yazari Delmore Schwartz'in olum yildonumu (11 Temmuz 1966)

Yuregim carparken, kanim dolasirken,
Isik parildarken,
Kafam calisirken, toprak donerken,
Saat hizla tik-tak ederken,
Zaman ilerlerken, zaman biterken,
Zaman durmadan bitip tukenirken!
Zaman vedalasmadir! Zaman vedalasma!
Yanimda kal: birakip gitme,
Ama yurumeyen oluler gibi degil,
Parktaki heykeller, dalgalari karsilayan
Kayalar gibi de degil,
Dileklerin, gelen siralarin, devinimlerin,
Seslerin ve ofkeli istekle yikilan yarinin
Akip gittigi danstan vazgec,
Vazgec kaninin ve guzelliginin akip gittigi
danstan:
Kimildamadan dur benim yanimda.

Kimildamadan duramayiz, zaman oluyor,
Biz oluyoruz: Zaman vedalasmadir!

Kal oyleyse, kal! Bekle beni,
Bile bile, ozenle, dikkatle,
Bile bile
Dur.
Uygun adim kosarken birlikte,
Ayni hiz, ayni atilimla,
Iyi oluruz iste o zaman, kosut ve esit,
Birlikte koşarak makadam yolda,
Birlikte yuruyerek,
Hizimizi denetleyerek, yaslanmadan once,
Birlikte yuruyerek uzaklasan yolda,
Sarloyla yetim kizkardesi gibi,
Birlikte zamanin icinden butun iyiliklere.



My heart beating, my blood running,
The light brimming,
My mind moving, the ground turning,
My eyes blinking, the air flowing,
The clock’s quick-ticking,
Time moving, time dying,
Time perpetually perishing!
Time is farewell! Time is farewell!

Abide with me: do not go away,
But not as the dead who do not walk,
And not as a statue in the park,
And not as the rock which meets the wave,
But quit the dance from which is flowing
Wishes and turns, gestures and voices,
Angry desire and fallen tomorrow,
Quit the dance from which is flowing
Your blood and beauty: stand still with me.

We cannot stand still: time is dying,
We are dying: Time is farewell!

Stay then, stay! Wait now for me,
Deliberately, with care and circumspection,
Deliberately
Stop,
When we are in step, running together,
Our pace equal, our motion one,
Then we will be well, parallel and equal,
Running together down the macadam road,
Walking together,
Controlling our pace before we get old,
Walking together on the receding road,
Like Chaplin and his orphan sister,
Moving together through time to all good.

[Terraluna]

Pakistan asilli Ingiliz roman yazari Nadeem Aslam'in dogum gunu (11 Temmuz 1966)

"Ruhlari yaratmak ne kadar kolay diye dusundu birkac dakika sonra, zihninin, icinde Nahid'in anisi bulunan bolmelerinin hepsinin birer birer kapandigini hissederek olurken. Ve her seye ragmen, sevmis olmak cok degerliydi. Dunya gozden kaybolmadan hemen once, her seyin bu kadarla bitmeyecegiyle, bir bicimde geri donecegiyle ilgili bir umut belirdi icinde.

Kollari, kanat olduklari zamanlari hatirlayarak, yukseldi." Kor Adamin Bahcesi



“How easy it is to create ghosts, he thinks as he begins to die a minute later, feeling his mind closing chamber by chamber, the memory of Naheed contained in each one. And despite it all it means much to have been loved. Just before the world vanishes, a hope surfaces in him that this wasn’t necessarily everything, that he will return somehow.

His arm rises, remembering when it used to be a wing.”




"Onun, yolun tozuyla yuzu solmus, boynunda kendi kolyesiyle donecegi ani dusunerek seher havasini soludu Nahid. Hasarli ve yara izleriyle dolu olsa da hala kusursuzdu o; ve tanrilarin neden insanlari arac olarak kullanmak istediklerini anliyordu."



"She breathes the dawn air, thinking of the moment he will return pale with road dust and with her necklace at his throat. Damaged and scarred, he is still perfect and she sees why gods might wish to use human beings as instruments."

[Terraluna]

Pulitzer ve Man Booker Odullu, Hint asilli Amerikali roman yazari Nilanjana Sudeshna "Jhumpa" Lahiri'nin dogum gunu (11 Temmuz 1967)

"Bir basinalik da kendine ozgu yoldasligini sundu ona: kaldigi odalarin guvenilir sessizligi, aksamlarin istikrarli sukuneti. Her seyi koydugu yerde bulacaginin, hicbir mudahale, hicbir surpriz olmayacaginin guvencesi. Onu alt etmek gibi bir arzusu yoktu. Aksine artik bel baglayabilecegi, her iki evliliginde yasadigindan daha tatminkar ve kalici bir iliskiye girdigi bir seydi bir basinalik." Sacinda Gun Isigi



“Isolation offered its own form of companionship: the reliable silence of her rooms, the steadfast tranquility of the evenings. The promise that she would find things where she put them, that there would be no interruption, no surprise. She had no wish to overcome it. Rather, it was something upon which she’d come to depend, with which she’d entered by now into a relationship, more satisfying and enduring than the relationships she’d experienced in either of her marriages”




"Asoke'nin Ingilizcesi yeterince iyi oldugunda kitaplari kendisi okumaya basladi. Karamazov kardesler, Anna karenina, Babalar ve Ogulları kitaplarinin kimi sayfalarini dunyanin en gurultulu, en kalabalik sokaklari olan Chowringhee ve Gariahat caddelerinde yururken okumustu. Bir defasinda onu taklit etmeye calisan kucuk kuzeni Asoke'nin evindeki kirmizi kil merdivenlerinden dusup kolunu kirmisti. Asoke'nin annesi en buyuk oglunun bir gun kafasi Savas ve Baris'in icine gomulu halde yururken, bir tramvayin ya da otobusun altinda kalacagindan emindi. Oldugu anda bile kitap okuyor olacakti." Adas



"When Ashoke’s English was good enough, he began to read the books himself. It was while walking on some of the world’s noisiest, busiest streets, on Chowringhee and Gariahat Road, that he had read pages of The Brothers Karamazov, and Anna Karenina, and Fathers and Sons. Once, a younger cousin who had tried to imitate him had fallen down the red clay staircase in Ashoke’s house and broken an arm. Ashoke’s mother was always convinced that her eldest son would be hit by a bus or a tram, his nose deep into War and Peace. That he would be reading a book the moment he died."

[Terraluna]

Isvecli yazar ve sair Pär Fabian Lagerkvist’in olum yildonumu (11 Temmuz 1974)

“Boyum yirmi alti inc, endamli ve biçimliyimdir, belki basim biraz buyukce. Saclarim, obur cucelerininki gibi siyah degil, kirmiziya caliyor, çok SIK ve sert, sakaklarim ve alnim biraz acilmistir. Alnim genis ama alcaktir. Sakalim yok, ama bunun disinda yuzum oteki erkeklerin yuzu gibi. Kaslarim bitisik. Gucum kuvvetim yamandir, hele kizarsam… Bizi Jehoshaphat ile gurese tutusturduklarinda yirmi dakika gecti gecmedi, sirtini yere getirdim ve bogdum onu. Ondan beri sarayin tek cucesiyim.” Cuce



“I am twenty-six inches tall, shapely and well proportioned, my head perhaps a trifle too large. My hair is not black like the others’, but reddish, very stiff and thick, drawn back from the temples and the broad but not especially lofty brow. My face is beardless, but otherwise just like that of other men. My eyebrows meet. My bodily strength is considerable, particularly if I am annoyed. When the wrestling match was arranged between Jehoshaphat and myself I forced him onto his back after twenty minutes and strangled him. Since then I have been the only dwarf at this court.”

[Terraluna]

"Shamas acik kapıda durup topraga, kari gokyuzunden kendisine ceken o miknatisa bakti. Kar taneleri, temkinli, neredeyse duraksayan suzulusleriyle, suda batmakta olan kus tuylerine benziyorlardi. Kar firtinasi, yakindaki ksilofon biciminde mendiregi olan golden yayilip evlerin icine kadar sizan kokudan havayi temizlemisti; ama koku, silinip gitmisken bile varligini hissettiriyor, yokluguna dikkat cekiyordu.

Yilin ilk kariydi; mahallenin cocuklari bugun butun gun yokus tepelerinde olacaklar, daha hizli kaysinlar diye mumlar yakip kizaklarin raylarıini isitacaklar, kilisenin ve caminin cevresindeki korkuluklarin donmus civilerini yalamak icin birbirlerini cesaretlendirecekler, yapacaklari kardan adamlari duzeltip simetrik hale getirmek icin mutfaklardan peynir rendeleri asiracaklar, o yasta her sey muazzam bir seruven oldugundan, sogugun farkina bile varmayacaklardi; bir midyenin, incinin etine gomulmesine ses cikartmamasi gibi, gol kiyisindaki cakil taslari da cocuklarin ciplak ayaklarinin tabanlarini acitmiyordu anlasilan.

Tepesinden bir buz sarkit kopup, isik sacan bir hancer gibi Shamas’a dogru dustu; ustunde durdugu tas basamakta parcalandi; ezildiginde seffafligini kaybeden toz seker gibi beyaz bir pudraya donustu. Shamas, ayaginin bir hareketiyle bu gecici enkazi, cocuklarindan birinin yillar once olu bir ispinoz kusu gomdugu ve o gunden sonra agirlik altlnda narin kemikler ve bir onceki bahar icinde olustugu yumurtanin kabugu kadar hassas minik kafatasi kirilmasin diye kimsenin basmasina izin vermedigi kosrsinde Mayis'ta ve Haziran'da cilek buyuklunde ve sertliginde gul goncalarinin olusacagi, karla kapli on bahceye gonderdi..." Nadeem Aslam, Kaybolan Sevgililere Yollar



"Shamas stands in the open door and watches the earth, the magnet that it is, pulling snowflakes out of the sky towards itself. With their deliberate, almost-impaired pace, they fall like feathers sinking in water. The snowstorm has rinsed the air of the incense that drifts into the houses from the nearby lake with the xylophone jetty, but it is there even when absent, drawing attention to its own disappearance.

This is the first snow of the season and the neighbourhood’s children will be on the slopes all day today, burning candles to heat the runners of toboggans to make them slip with increased fluency, daring each other to lick the frozen spikes of the railings around the church and those around the mosque, smuggling cheese-graters out of the kitchens to refine the symmetry of the snowmen they will build, oblivious to the cold because everything is a sublime adventure at that age; an oyster tolerates the pearl embedded in its flesh, and so the pebbles on the lake shore don’t seem to pain the soles of the children’s bare feet.

An icicle breaks off from above and drops like a radiant dagger towards Shamas, shattering on the stone step he is standing on, turning into white powder the way a crystal of sugar loses its transparency when crushed. With a movement of his foot, Shamas sends this temporary debris into the snow-covered front garden where in May and June there will be rosebuds the size and solidity of strawberries, into the corner where one of his children had buried a dead finch many years ago, not allowing anyone to set foot on that spot afterwards lest the delicate bones crack under the weight, the tiny skull as fragile as the eggshell within which it had formed the previous spring..."

[Terraluna]

"Metal Masters" Metallica, grubun abc’sini anlatacak cocuk kitabi yayinlayacak.

Proje için Howie Abrams ve illüstrator Michael “Kaves” McLeer ile guclerini birlestiren Metallica, kitabin satisindan elde edilen gelirin buyuk bir kismini is gucu egitimini, aclikla mucadeleyi ve diger kritik yerel hizmetleri destekleyerek surdurulebilir topluluklar yaratma uzerine calisan All Within My Hands Foundation’a bagislanacagini acikladi.



Grup yaptigi aciklamada "The ABCs of Metallica, gecmise geri donuslerle ve eglenceli anektodlarla birlikte Garage Days’ten Master of Puppets’a, A’dan Z’ye grubun seruvenini anlatacak.” dedi. Kitap 26 Kasim 2019'da piyasada olacak.

https://www.metallica.com/news/2019-...metallica.html