VURAL BAHADIR BAYRIL-PROLIFIC POET, WRITER, ARTIST FROM ISTANBUL.

BIODATA OF W. B. BAYRIL

  Poet, writer and art critic. He graduated from Fine Art Academy of İstanbul Faculty of Basic Design, Art Critique and Art History (1985). He completed his masters thesis in the same faculty. He established ŞiirAtı (meaning: Pegasus) publications with his associates in 1985. That review made revulation in Turkish poetry history. His poems and articles about painting, literature and poetry have been published in many reviews and newspapers. He is one of the famous publishers of ŞiirAtı (Pegasus) reviews. He recevied an honorable mention from the review Yarın, in the field of poetry critique in 1983 and an honorable mention at the Enka Science and Art Award with famous poet’s. (1986) He won the 1992 Behçet Necatigil Poetry Award with his first book Melek Geçti (Angel Passed) and the Writers Union of Turkey Award for Şer Cisimler (Evil Things) in 2000.

Poetry Books: Angel Passed (1992), Evil Things (2000), Desolate Desire (2009), Diamond Distress (2016), Rosa das Rosas (2021) Prose Books: Always Poet (2017), Speak, My Heart (2019), You Are Lover of My Friend ( in press) BIODATA Garland Book: Other Poetic, Essays About Bayrıl Poem, Hilal Karahan, 2012

Theses: Hilal Tanrıverdi, The Poem of Vural Bahadır Bayrıl- Istanbul University 2019, Halil Cin, A Study on Vural Bahadır Bayrıl- Manisa Celal Bayar University 2020, Fatih Balcıoğlu Tradition in Vural Bahadır Bayrıl Poetry- Hatay Mustafa Kemal University, 2020

“BOATS ON THE RIVER”

  Ay sızdıran kulübe: Muhayyile! Eşkâl
ler tırmanıyor, zehirli sarmaşıklar
gibi, kalbimde uyuyan harf heykellerine.

  Su, varoluşundan yorgun. İsyankâr
madde. İtiyor gönülsüzce, çiçeklerle
süslü nehrin üzerinde.

  Masumiyetine iade edilen iki gövde.
Son timsâli aşkın. Yan yana, yine el ele.
Akmak. Kör fiil. Boyun eğiyor tevekkülle,
kendini akışa mahkûm eden kudrete.

  Defneler içinde yüzen gölgeler. Karıştı
sonunda nehre… Âh anne nehir, bal rengi
saçlarını kalbime seren nehir! Hangi dil
elverir şimdi onlara ölü demeye?

  Çakıp söndü. Lâhzada. Kâğıtta. Bu camsı,
bu kırılgan zeminde. Kalıntılarını
yeniden kurmaya çalıştığım o müphem
hâle… Sadece ışık sıyrıkları kaldı
ayın sakatladığı aciz muhayyilemde.

  Mâzi: çetrefil muhasebe! Yiten neydi,
biriken ne? Işıyan iki mıknatısın
arasında geçirdiğim o altın mevsimlerde!

“BOATS ON THE RIVER”

The cottage that oozes the moon: Imagination!
Figures are climbing, like poison ivies,
up on the letter statues sleeping in my heart

Water, tired of its existence. Rebellious
substance. It pushes unwillingly, with flowers
on the fancy river.
Two bodies returned to their innocence.

The last symbol of love. Side by side, hand in hand again.
To flow. Blind verb. It submits with resignation
to the power that condemned it to the flow.
Shadows floating in laurels. They mixed

with the river at the end… Oh mother river, the amber
hair of yours you lay across my heart! What language
can suffice now to call them dead?

It flashed. In an instant. On the paper. On this vitreous,
on this fragile ground. The remnants
I try to reconstruct of that hazy
halo… There remains the light scratches alone
in my helpless imagination inflicted by the moon.

Past: intricate account! What got lost,
what accumulates? In the golden seasons
I spent in-between two radiant magnets!

ÇOCUK VE LAVANTA

    Kristal dokunuşlarıyla siyanür
süzülür karanlığıma. Büyür rüzgârın avlusunda
tutku; o siyâh gül! Ansızın kâğıtlarda
şayak kalpağıyla kış ordusu. Kar ve bunalma.
Başlar herkesin kendi olma korkusu.

  Ö r t ü l ü r h a y â l v e a y n a.

  İçerde, pasın gölgeye, gölgenin çocuğa
dönüştüğü yerde aşınmış bir lavanta kokusu…
Ve içinden sessizce geçilen bir oda:
tedirginlik!... Böyledir anne ve hatırlama.

  Çatlar fesleğen öğüten saat. Buruşur hâtıra.
Gümüş sızar büyük konağın aynasından.
Dönmek, âh ne mümkün? Görününce Selânik
sararmış bir ipeklinin yollarından.

  Kırılgandır geceler. Camlara vurur çılgın
ıhlamur. Susar çocuğun sarışın uykularında
muhacir leylakları çürümüş tambur.
Şi’rdir, sır’ı dökülmüş görüntülerdir, eskir
bir anneanneden akan o tebessüm ve
gül duygusunda.

  Ç ö z ü l ü r h a y â l v e a y n a.

    THE CHILD AND LAVENDER

Cyanide with its crystal touches
glides into my darkness. In the yard of wind, grows
passion; that black rose! Suddenly on the papers
the winter army with its serge calpac. Snow and suffocation.
The fear of being one’s own self begins.

C o v e r e d b e c o m e d r e a m a n d m i r r o r.

Inside, where the rust turns into shadow, shadow into child,
there is an eroded smell of lavender…
And a room to pass through in silence:
unease!... This is the way mother and remembrance is.
Cracks the clock that grinds basils. The memory creases.

Silver oozes from the mirror of the large mansion.
To return, oh impossible… When Thessaloniki comes
to sight from the roads of the one with pale silks.
Nights are fragile. Hits the glass the mad

linden. Silences in the blonde sleeps of the child
the drum whose immigrant lilacs withered.
It’s cognition, it’s the images with their foils gone, it gets old
In the feeling of smile and rose that floats from a grandmother.

C l e a r b e c o m e d r e a m a n d m i r r o r.

Translator: Yaprak Damla Yıldırım