a truth the stone-pavers skipped

by Nilay Özer, translated by Aron Aji

Maksim Shutov

I

multitudo-i-am she said name of your land you stopped in the eyes of a hyena all is speedwhere are you when I say this

the woodstove in the village teahouse is the epicenter of now a crack deepens in its marble you fall in writing is vertigo

the soot smell in the bread the roads where rotting melons trundle these two must be related else why would they take refuge in the same sorrow at once

feet sinking in the tracks left by a tree you were asking men with miswak-brushed teeth for an address that was not of this world look in the mirror remember your anguish

you had found it on the seafloor in other words on that first bed when deserts were just being laid with sand grief moves across time steel yourself

wash your face till your face pales give your eyes blood to drink they know how to swallow

II

the tree released its resin the ink measured to speak measure the mating snails severed in dizzy effervescence

moments clung to moments like this the evening drunk on pure iridescence a sparrow pecking the geranium’s soil hours drowsy with the sweet deposit of vows

death boomed inside his skull unwarned he who had first sensed his being in the quiet now to stand on a branch autumnal and quivering flat like the stare of fish without memory

is it the stone or the stone’s unmindful weight cold moist stirrings unperturbed beneath time’s habit withered branches a road a fly traced these during flight

truth can be deferred but until the lilacs afterwards faintness imbalance courage does the field need proof that it lost the farm wilted rose spent season spilled milk

recalling a dream the cat stretched yawned pawed itself and wanted to live all over again

III

in the air the wind’s elusive trajectory sin in the air like grapes bitten on the vine we were content as if warm rose petals were touching our lips mountains grew lighter the more we told their stories the exuberance of balconies where we called up those mountains under a summer sky chastised for no apparent reason

sometimes we searched for words that blazed when they touched somewhere a lake would disappear maybe to counteract a lake seen in a dream we laid our hands on the stones to listen — ah how slowly their heart beat stillness love maelstrom each born out of a distance come whisper in my ear let the gauzy silence muffle the sounds

our hands are impermanent don’t forget tear a walnut leaf tear it and smell all the truth and mystery stored in the torn walnut leaf is impermanent the moment untangles itself as it makes you watch an open wound or durations of damage what else but the stone is the insignia of youth tested among stone houses

things not to overlook for instance dust particles colliding with light an invisible sheet billowing among the morning doves soaring sinking the thick black fluid oozing out of books boils and evaporates but so what everything falls in place when named I am everything until named

and it is possible to forget that truth is forgetful just think science of shadows water rust on cliff-faces or an olive tree trunk

whatever assumes the shape of what you cannot speak think of its arduous tongue who doesn’t suffer the pain of staying or leaving and no one knows how to prepare to wither alongside a rose

on your skin the wind’s shadowplay on your skin grapes bitten on the vine

IV

each moment holds the unseen don’t touch anything feel your breath’s light the tangled ivy that is your nature objects have their privacy don’t touch

walk past the shadows swept with time past the angels who enjoy vanishing touch nothing except for the echo of the first sound

signs and intimations — they assail emptiness when written words too confine — thankfully there is a period’s infinite halo don’t touch the deep where the sky descends

emptiness gathers in the folds of sheets the wind turns itself to dust for your skins top and look at the truth but don’t touch

because clouds don’t know they are floating a stone in the garden is unaware of a flower in the garden bury what you find don’t touch the memory

in the middle of the room stood a plant when I closed my eyes it changed into a panther

V

they locked me inside a stone’s mirror I looked and saw I was looking at a stone stones I mistook for the faces of kings ants crawled through the eyesockets whatever it was they were hauling in negated every trace of nobility death was not quiet quiet flowed the danube

as if it beheld something sacred and was damned the stone was crooked I was crooked a tongue was given to me bite by bite no more constellations change I stand unchanged I know my fault lines their perilous magnitude

I was no taller than grass what had tainted me then quo vadis domine written on my abdomen in my body’s hollow so many men fit to be stoned I looked at my hands this could not be a beginning I looked at my hands it is true but first who was I my self’s other my dead sister her living double

if you find a green stone among the gray stones take it if you hear my solitude whispering to you take it

— for Salem 1692–93

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As an Istanbul born and raised poet, Nilay Özer graduated from Kandilli Kız Lisesi and studied biology teaching and primary teaching in Marmara University, Department of Biology Teaching and Department of Primary. After she worked as an elementary school teacher for two years and received her MA degree from Bilkent University, Department of Turkish Literature with her thesis about the form-content opposition in Turgut Uyar’s book entitled Divan. She received her PhD from the same department in 2012 with her dissertation titled “Images in Nâzım Hikmet’s Human Landscapes From My Country: Society, History and Cinema.” She has been teaching Turkish creative writing and modern Turkish literature in major universities and attending different workshops and gatherings about literature in various NGOs and institutions since 2008.

Following her early poems published in various literary magazines including Varlık, Adam Sanat in 1995, her first book titled Zamana Dağılan Nar, was published in 1999. She received the Cemal Süreya Poetry Award in 2004 with her second book titled Ol!.. Her third book, Korkuluklara Giysi Yardımı, was published in 2015. Nilay Özer’s literature for children has been published by Yapı Kredi Yayınları including Meşe Palamudu Macanda (2015), Uçan Kaçan Bir Pijama Öyküsü (2016), Yara Bandı Fabrikası (2016), Üç Ejder Masalı (2017).