mersiye ve ingilizceye tercümesi; translated by Ahmet Fahreddin Uçar
- (1978 de vefat eden Hatice Uçar için)
-
MERSİYE
eyvâh gülüm soldu harâb oldu gülistân
çarh eyledi devrân
bülbül yine nâlân
gün doğdu çerâğ söndü kalan eğreti dünyâ
ma’nâsı yok ammâ
devretmede hâlâ
muzlim geceler toprağın altında o cânân
cânım gibi cânân
zindanlara mihmân
gök kubbesi hâlâ yine dilsiz ve mutantan
kahr olsa da insân
gökler içün âsân
âlem yine âlem yine bu kubbe-i hadrâ
durmakta muallâ
gök çökmedi hâlâ
dil derd-i derûnüyle kalır başbaşa ammâ
yâdında o cânâ
dil sadef-i azrâ
feryâdıma ma’kes olur ol kubbe-i tannân
kalbimde pür efgân,
ummân-ı hurûşân
devretmede anda
bir nağme-i hicrân
hicrân, yine hicrân
rü’yâ gibi geçdi hani ol kâkül-i turrâ
sünbül gibi hayfâ
soldu yine hulyâ
âlemde ne gün gördü hazân oldu bahârı
gün görmedi bâri
ol gonce i’zârı
bir şâm-ı garîbâne erip mehr-i temâşâ
sönmüş gibi gûyâ
başlar şeb-i yeldâ
mevcûd ile ma’dûm gibi dünyâ ile ukbâ
dünyâ dahi rü’yâ
müşkil bu muammâ
mevcûd ise varlık nedir encâm-ı karârı
câmi’ yoğu vârı
esrâr-ı mezârı
zulmetlere gark eyledin ol nakş-i nigârı
ol çeşm-i humârı
yaktın dil-i zârı
ya râb benim isyânıma tuğyânıma bakma
zulmetde mi cânâ
zulmetde bırakma
zulmetde bırakma
elegy:
Alas, my rose have withered, the rose garden spoiled
The time has shifted
And the nightingale is lamenting again.
The day is born but the candle of the lent-world died down
Alas, it has no meaning, Yet it still revolves.
Dark and sinister nights and in obscurity, my beloved lies under the soil
My soul like my beloved
In dungeons resides
In sinister nights
Yet the dome of heaven is mute and glorious
Though one is sorrowful,
Does it heavens trouble?
So far the world is the world still; this, the green heaven, still
Stands exalted
The heavens didn’t collapse yet
But the soul remains with this problem in his heart,
All the more in constant reminiscence of the beloved,
Aye like a pearl contained in an oyster shell.
Repeats my pangs of cry that sonorous sky.
Full of screams is my heart Like a turbulent ocean,
Resounds in that ocean
Revolving this melody
A tune of lamentation
Mournful grievance again
Passed like a dream where is that trace of forelock
As a hyacinth, alas
Faded this fancy again.
What days has she seen in this world? Her spring turned to autumn,
Didn’t see plenty good many days
Her rosecheekes
A wanderer at dusk coming to observe the sun,
Perceived as though it is forever gone,
Thus Commences the winter solstice.
Like the extant and the absent, is this world and the hereafter
Even the world is but a fancy dream:
An intricate mystery.
If present being is the existence, what is it’s ultimate resolve?
Merged together the extant and the absent,
In this tomb of mystery.
O God. You buried into darkness that image of beauty,
That yearning eye,
You’ve burnt my lamenting heart.
My God, disregard my obstinacy, my rebelliousness,
Is my beloved in darkness?
Leave her not in darkness,
Leave not in darkness.
.
