Sami Baydar (1962-2012) Sami Baydar: A Language of Dying Paul Celan, Between 1987 and 1996, in four books, The Gentlemen of the World (Dünya Efendileri, 1987), The Green Flame ( , 1991), The World Will Tell Me the Same Thing (Dünya , 1995) and The World of Flowers ( , 1996), Sami Baydar created one of the most resonant bodies of work in Turkish poetry. After a hiatus of nine years, starting with Between Being and Non-Being ( , 2003) and continuing with The Portrait of Nicholas ( , 2005) and the posthumous book The Body Always Struggles ( develop an increasingly minimalist style hi he Black Sea and spending the rest of his life there mostly in isolation from the Istanbul poetry community. The present selection opens with the fourteen-line poem "leaf" which also begins The Gentlemen of the World in my opinion one of the most complex and formative poems of modern Turkish poetry cage" which he wrote in the last years of his life and appear in his posthumous book The Body Always Struggles.1 poetry undergoes in twenty-five years. Nevertheless, the break is more apparent than real. Despite their pared-down simplicity, the later pieces are full of gaps, indirect, ambiguous references, narrative leaps which draw the attention away from the words, what is being said, to what is being unsaid, the silent space behind, around the words: ess is making words vanish A similar space basically a space triggered in the mind of the reader is the heart of und two crucial puns from a tree in geometric, four-dimensional precision (angles of leaves to the ground change as they move in time).2 Simultaneously, the poem depicts a movement of thought tracing Eda: An Anthology of Contemporary Turkish Poetry, edited by Murat Nemet-Nejat published by Talisman House in the United States in 2004 contains twenty pages of Baydar translations, but none from his first book The Gentlemen of the World. The book was out of print, and I could not get hold of a copy despite all my efforts. 2 A similar analytic depiction of motion occurs in "The Sea Bird." That poem, also included in this selection, depicts the movements of a sea gull hovering over and grazing the surface of waves on the sea. 1 in the reader's mind, welded to the text by the pun). In that way, in the poetry the objectivity of the falling leaf and the subjectivity of the consciousness observing it become unified, the objective (words) becoming a portal to the spiritual (the infinite space, silence surrounding language). a trigger for a spiritual fall from grace. Air has a very important place in Sufi cosmology because it unifies the invisible divine with the visible. One may have intimations of the divine by tracing the motions, cadences of a branch or a leaf affected by the wind. Even though the word God is barely mentioned in sensibility.3 poet his university degree was in drawing and painting. His poems progress by the poet assigning mental spaces to his thoughts. Often, the structure of the poems, as in "The Crown," consists of the arrangement of these spaces, the music the mental cadences they create. Language itself the syntactical clarity of references within a sentence is seemingly an afterthought, almost never, except for the puns, the direct focus of the poet. The arrangement of thought in some of his most resonant poems seems on the verge of chaos due to sudden jumps and a shifting ambiguity in who or what the addressee is, partly achieved by the absence of gender and most other specifying distinctions in Turkish pronouns a language which seems a mixture of flatness pierced by moments of dazzling clarity. What one has is a space of blurred meaning where what one sees are exchanges among different spaces. The main impetus of the Baydar poem is to move from the specifity of language to the openness of blurred space, the transition from the limitations of words to a place beyond them: in other words, a poetry on the peripheries of language. which is impossible and where language breaks down. Bay daring, destructive, paradoxical act basically, a gesture of cutting the branch on which one stands and observing its fall. awkward, an poetry even if ever there are happening innocently, despite him. Nothing is further away from the facts. Baydar is involved in one of the most radical acts that a contemporary poet Because of Atatürk's secularist reforms, "God" has been the most taboo word in Turkish poetry. I discuss in detail the subversive spirituality of Eda: An Anthology, pp. 323/33). The word "God" is the absent presence (the sea bird) hovering over the main body of Turkish poetry, the wind blowing through it. 3 can be involved in, the near destruction of the very medium on which poetry stands, language, for the purpose of transforming its possibilities. In that respect, he reminds me of another Turkish poet Orhan Veli and his statement in the Garip Manifesto of endeavor is up to each reader. After extensive reading and brooding on his poetry, going through the gyrations of doubt and enthusiasm, where I finally stand is perfectly clear. Murat Nemet-Nejat Poems by Sami Baydar Translated from Turkish by Murat Nemet-Nejat4 4 Nemet-Nejat is working on a collection of Baydar's poetry in English. Virgin River To bathe in your water between your face and your hair a hand must be... as if one single sparrow left its tail flying. 1982 (The World Will Tell Me the Same Thing) Boils Water boils. It is the cloud of the sick, the heat rises. this fire is this spring. roots park up the tree, home sick. 1985 (TWWTM) leaf5 a thought of the breeze, irrelevantly twisting falling on the cement in guilt turning a connection with itself joining the ends of a circle and at every turn a change of angle and the sum of all these dimensions shows its distance from the ground and it desires only to see these the circles and to show this distance unrelated to the breeze it only sees itself tracing as the gestures of a thought's heart in the twisting falling of the leaf every turn every turn on itself. 19876 (The Gentlemen of the World) "leaf" and "VII" constitute the first two poems in Baydar's first book of poetry The Gentlemen of the World. "leaf" posits one side, the Arc of Descent, of a crucial Sufi ikonography, the opposite side being the Arc of Ascent. The Arc of Descent is a movement away from union with the divine and with love towards multiplicity, continuous motion and chaos. The entirety of Baydar's poetry can be seen as a struggle, through tears and suffering due to the loss of a loved one, to re-enter the spiritual state of the Ark of Ascent which, in Baydar, can only be achieved by death. The processes of the Arcs of Descent and Ascent (or vice versa) are simultaneous, not sequencial. The shift from the one to the other is perceptual/spiritual. It occurs in the mind. For instance, in "leaf" the physical fall of the leaf by the wind, simultaneously, is traced by the reader as the movement of a thought ("a thought of the breeze"). That way, the physical language of Baydar's poetry becomes a gateway to a spiritual ascent in the reading. Alchemically, words (depicting fall, tears, suffering) become spirit. 6 Unless an earlier one for the poem is indicated, the date represents the publication date of the book in which the poem first appears. 5 VII. I am touching your ear, it produces sadness you are telling me of one of the draughtsman your making love together sing with affection the draughtsman was drawing the ear in one whole year, they say my hands feel numb i take them to my lips how do your words fit together with that next to you, in your dream why is your picture known by this title young man, the bitter fumes are asking falling from some eyes but all together they say fields on earth). 1987 (TGOTW) No One Home7 When my wife cried my servants told her to keep quiet as I, while they kiss her hand, see it in the mirror. They embraced my wife, daughter, making them drink herbs, I saw it in the mirror, she sleeping, they worship her by her bed. Together, Before my wife my servant puts his forehead to the ground, from his back the top of a creature is emerging who listens to my wife like a child. is pleading with me on the floor, but I see her climbing someone in the mirror sadly I love her. My love lifts the weights from her body and she, growing light, can approach me as the servant sees the blood on the floor I see her crying in the mirror. The servant is climbing down the stairs in the mirror I see a postman arriving the servant says there is no one home. 1991 (The Green Flame) The mirror is a central symbol in Sufism, the site where God, the human mind and nature can see themselves to see oneself only as a reflection, an it borde experiences everything as seen apprehended only through reflections." The Arc of Descent in this poem is at the center of human consciousness around its disorientation and dissolution, 7 The Corner of the Wall Arriving in hell a Now I pulled off a handful of hair tomorrow, if my heart wills it, on the branch where the dragonfly is. One of the birds raised its head saw my light, not important that it noticed it or not. I gathered grass, dirt, branch, bush and drew a bird on the wall outside a posy of dried grass and this fistful of hair with this dried dragonfly unable to survive with the bird. 1991 (TGF) Roses being buried inside shades broken up in laughter, beautiful dark garden. Only yesterday it rained, no mud such such little time is permitted to everything, my brother naked under white sheets making neeew friends. I carry summer in whites in whites birds, spring nothing shadows are changing nothing. that make me disappear entirely and odd facts. are becoming happy again. 1991 (TGF) Pitcher The late ones are taken by death, but it takes them early, before anyone arrives the birds flocking to the first step rains fighting in tears are guarding us there are spins belonging to you, in the attracting loneliness Like a caterpillar the rain is flowing over him snarled s o s is sending waves to the shore rising in the throat to the surface, death is putting on its gloves, at the depth of words you whispered to those swimming I'm not sore, just spinning firecrackers in my mouth, what's off, eye lines will true, it seems, on my part, the broken line is vowing revenge waking up crying the letter flowing from the lip to the eye telling its dream On my part, I see my salvation on shoulder ends but I can't tell what's in the pitcher because the wall of shoulder ends doesn't resemble the walls in the world. If rains fighting in tears then like a caterpillar over the pitcher the man asking for help drowns.8 1987 (TWWTM) I can't tell what's in the pitcher: Water in a pitcher is invisible; one can only see its contours ("shoulders," "walls"). A poem almost beyond speech. To know what is inside the pitcher, one has to drown; the poem is 8 Pine Cone Air, is inside water fire and star. I'll rip off my back a left-handed weakness like dragonfly wings. Like a giant pupa like on glazed lit fields spinning. In a net a dead weight scaring the fisherman. maybe he did not, could not haul that catch, letting the net loose in the water. A shadow merely moving scary dark water, Maybe what makes water deeper is my being in it in my clothing woven beyond my knowing 1988 (TWWTM) - Baptismal Tray I used to collect horse chestnuts I knew, I rolled in meadows in hollows and projections... which stopped them. As half of a sliced lemon gets moldier, forming a white line along its edge, the holding hand-in-hand of angels. The rain forced to settle inside a snail grows field angels inside. The girl entering a dark salon a light, lightly, is feeling its hand on your back, phosphorescent crayons of erotica everywhere. That unpossessable prepossessing sleeping child, me, is holding a flower belonging to ancient worlds in a book. Drawing a baseless triangle watching the ancient flower... the ancient flower is signaling a flying coercion to the candle, capsizes scratched by bird's feet... Fearing that you might notice the oddness of lines delineated in emptiness ing in the direction of the sound, then, as if asking you to focus at an odder thing, (Chestnuts, moldy lemon, colored stones, cooled waters, a dry leaf, a burnt match, a few shining objects, a glowing lid, snail shell, a burnt out candle...) As you leave the child is waking: we'll write another poem, before being turns into purity. 1988 (TWWTM) Leaves I hold under shedding tears, a thirst pit, at thirty, I arrange your neckties. Please tell me what's a good time for you. From the wood a gazelle is escaping midnight springing it back will take tears warped wood after years. Warm bread is waylaying me nowadays as if I hallucinate a rabbit in the bush if I merely take a walk in the field either way the house guest is gone (you were used to this place, Before leaving on the trip checking out the house the windows, the wind is like the first stirrings of pain on the roof first lost foreskins of living, yet unfulfilled. weep. weep. 1991 (TGF) The Crown In this world if someone opens a window nowhere no time him do it. Scanning the history of symmetry, stars also scan the royal crown unaware Moon and stars are only a minor circle, they say, holding light spectrum to seven severe colors this minimalist desire isn't for the dying still greater stars, leave empty that great silence, one of the lowly ones takes the job And inside inside your eyes, maids, would like for a moment cease ironing. 1996 (The World of Flpwers) Seagulls the finders of moonlight, piano and Roman bells? consolations dying, lose their innocence then When your coffin opens, smile for the new friends complain how hard it is to carry this to carry this my Lord, during the moments of laughter treat me nice In the house of shadows, the sea gulls multiply, they multiply lit up by your flashlight... my eyes, wounded by these, little empty chasms open 1996 (TWOF) A Sea Bird Towards the apex of the wave created on the surface of the ocean, the bird draws an arc, first is on the right side of this wave its breast grazes the water lifting, then the wave slides right the bird reaches above the apex and in the space relinquished by the wave weaves to the highest point reached by the cresting wave hitting it on a tangent returns belly first the bird is now entering the vault of the arc scaling down in the left side of the wave the wave progressing and passing this arc draws a circle completed or adding the waveless emptiness of the moment between two waves joining9 to the arching vault there is always a crest left back by a slightly sliding wave the surface of the sea is full of these circles of witchery traced in the air as a sea bird lingers on the wave until the wave completes its circumferal motion between two waves adds to itself the emptying circle of the previous wave. 1996 (TWOF) The waveless emptiness of the moment between two waves: Not the waves, but the space in-between, is the ultimate end of this poem. Does the progress of waves embody change or is it a sensory illusion, the water remaining static and only the location of its up-and-down movement changing? The poem starts with a description of the bird's flight in relation to water (very much like the movement of the leaf to the ground in "leaf"; and ends with bird and water joining in a third place, the emptiness in-between, becoming a gers on the wave/ until the wave completes its cirumferal 9 is left is union in emptiness. The sensory becomes the spiritual Emily Dickinson She was a book worm, gifting them to friends. You remember, Emily Dickinson had gifted me her acrylic paints. Everyone was gifting paints. Why, Emily Dickinson, back from me to give it... I was told this all the way to England. They gave you their garbage. Remember, Emily Dickinson given me two poems for Christmas. Miracle of miracles, my door was ringing. I was 18. used to laugh at my eyeglasses. 2012 (The Body Always Struggles) Daisy Daisies named chrysanthemums in poems (named Daisies have poems in them, thoughts named chrysanthemums. 2012 (TBAS) The cage is empty. 2012 (TBAS)
© Copyright 2025 Paperzz