Exlibrary

Ünlü Şair, Çevirmen, Edebiyatçı, TV Programcısı, eski Diplomat ve burada sayamadığımız daha başka birçok başarılı faaliyetin sahibi olan Sn. Talat Sait Halman’ın Orhan Veli şiirlerini İngilizce olarak yayınladığı “Just For The Hell Of It” isimli kitabından birkaç şiire yer vermek istedik. İyi çevirinin yabancı dil bilgisinden daha fazla ana dile hakimiyet gerektirdiği söylenir. İşte aşağıda sunduğumuz şiir çevirileri de bunun en güzel örneklerinden:

There Must Be A Catch

Is the sea as gorgeous as this every day?
Is this what the sky looks like all the time?
This furniture and this window -
Are they always this lovely?
They aren’t;
I swear they aren’t;
There must be a catch somewhere.

Just For The Hell Of It

All the pretty woman thought
The poems I wrote on love
Were meant for them.
And I always felt badly
About having written them
Just for the hell of it.

I Am Listening To Istanbul

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed:
At first there is a gentle breeze
And the leaves on the trees
Softly sway;
Out there, far away,
The bells of water-carriers unceasingly ring;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Then suddenly birds fly by,
Flocks of birds, high up, with a hue and cry,
While the nets are drawn in the fishing grounds
And a woman’s feet begin to dabble in the water.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
The Grand Bazaar’s serene and cool,
An uproar at the hub of the Market,
Mosque yards are full of pigeons.
While hammers bang and clang at the docks
Spirng winds bear the smell of sweat;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Still giddy from the revelries of the past,
A seaside mansion with dingy boathouses is fast asleep.
Amid the din and drone of southern winds, reposed,
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
A pretty girl walks by on the sidewalk:
Four-letter words, whistles and songs, rude remarks;
Something falls out of her hand -
It is a rose, I guess.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
A bird flutters round your skirt;
On your brow, is there sweet? Or not ? I know.
Are your lips wet? Or not? I know.
A silver moon rises beyond the pine trees:
I can sense it all in your heart’s throbbing.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

İngilizce bilenlerin okudukça yüzlerinde belirecek ışıltıyı garanti eden bu kitabı ne yazık ki her kitapçıda bulmak mümkün değil. Sahip olanlara ve bulabileceklere iyi okumalar diliyoruz.