A Long Poem Şiiri - Leman Julide

I was Without Toys…

Fields extending indefinitely in an Anatolian village were my toys
… clouds passing by fast above them were my dreams.
lying on my back with both arms extended staring at them… to each one attaching another dream.
these are the only happy moments left to me in my childhood.

then I discovered letters. long… thin… vertical … truncated… leaning… with dots.
each letter with a different shape… different sound… different magic…
coming together those majestic meanings… melodies… ellipses… expansions.
there, I’d found my toys…
besides, to purchase them I did not have to think if my father’s finances were sufficient, or not
if they broke I was not going to be scolded by my mother.

oh! like a miracle they were spread before my hands…
outside them I needed nothing.
whenever I went they were with me. When I was melancholy
or joyful they were with me ready to give tongue to everything I said.

I grew up in a culture where saying too much was considered a shame
because of that I never had enough letters to utter what I said in long sentences.
but I had extended pains… extended longings… extended loves.

“If I cry, will you be able to touch my tears? ’ Orhan Veli was saying.
In the very first poem I read, I could touch his…
… even even the Istanbul I never saw.

Poetry was a spell.
the only kind of writing that could touch directly the heart. and
to touch I began to write.
but first, touching my heart.
Touching there, anyhow, letters by themselves began their journey.

I was alone.
but writing I multiplied.
first I multiplied in myself… then in those who
touched my …knees.

Life is huge book… a long poem… and I will keep reading.