“It’s all right if you grow your wings on the way down.”Robert Bly
by Tomas Transtromer
Translated by Robert Bly
After a black day, I play Haydn,
and feel a little warmth in my hands.
The keys are ready. Kind hammers fall.
The sound is spirited, green, and full of silence.
The sound says that freedom exists
and someone pays no tax to Caesar.
I shove my hands in my haydnpockets
and act like a man who is calm about it all.
I raise my haydnflag. The signal is:
“We do not surrender. But want peace.”
Anlatamiyorum (I Can’t Explain)
by Orhan Veli Kanik
If I cried, could you hear
My voice in my poems,
Could you touch my tears
With your hands?
Before I fell prey to this grief,
I never knew songs were so enchanting
And words so mild.
I know there’s a place
Where you can talk about everything;
I feel I’m close to that place,
Yet I can’t explain.