My Kind of Poet…

If everybody would have a poet to name, then Özdemir Asaf would be the one I’d name.

Years ago, he won my heart, while I was on my way of being a teenage girl through these words: ‘Sen bana bakma / Ben senin baktığın yerde olurum’

After that day, I carried his book during a lot of moments in my life that mattered to me a lot; his books had “fewer words and more poetry.”

Now and then I found myself typing notes from his poems to my loved ones, for them to see in the morning when they wake up: ‘Sende gördüğümü görecekler diye ödüm kopuyor.’

At times, his poems were a haven to me, as I was getting over a breakup: ‘Tek kişilik miydi bu şehir / Sen gidince bomboş kaldı…’

When need to be, I learned how of great value solitude could be through: ‘Yalnızlık paylaşılmaz / Paylaşılsa yalnızlık olmaz’

So please don’t ask me, why I’d name Özdemir Asaf.

Or ask. At most I could say: I always loved men who acted upon their emotions prior than their thoughts.

If you ask what type of a trait that is; I’d respond to you I learned “how to love properly” through the poem below:

Herkes herkesi seviyor.
hepsi de başka türlü seviyor.
herkes herkesi sevmesin, gerek yok
adam azaldı, sevgi de elden gidiyor.

bana sen haklısın diyorlar,
hayır hayır, ben çok haklıyım bilen biliyor.
bu yarışın dışında kalanlar,
adamı sevgi, sevgiyi de adam ediyor.

Lately, the daily hassle grown on me.

The other day as I was taking a break from everything, I found myself searching for Özdemir Asaf’s books.

As I read his poems again and again, I realized for the first time what his first wife had told him about his elegance:

“He was writing poems, he was translating. He was such a young man full of grace. As the most would wear poplin shirts, Özdemir would wear silk pongee within a suit. His wrist pins had pearls on gold. On his right hand, he had a golden ring right on his ring finger, while on his left hand he had a ruby ring on his little finger. He was that sort elegant.”

I did not know that side of him; I liked it. And with this excuse, I wished to share “my kind of poet” with you. Perhaps one day you’d like to do the same with the poet you’d name…

Derin

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