a violent wind has blown in through the careless door
willingly it trapped itself within my four walls
not at all concerned about wearing itself out with time
nor eager to repair the travel path of its turmoiled home
when it was done with me
nothing was left beyond the flesh
a mere frame twisted to a selfless self
having prostrated itself on the mat of primal love
~ September 30, 2015
[Image Credit: Michelangelo Buonarroti, “Study of a Mourning Woman“]
Filed under Poetry
The scene shown above is claimed to be the most critical representation of the film “Eşkiya,” a groundbreaking contribution to contemporary Turkish cinema.The plot summaries in English of my finding don’t dwell on what this excerpt reveals with succinct emphasis; namely, the Leitmotif that holds this artistic production together: the story of Baran and Keje. It is a tale of love extending beyond the scopes of life and death, resonating the legendary loves in Turkish literature. Such as that between Ferhat and Şirin (12th century), Leyla and Mecnun (16th century), Kerem and Aslı (16th century), and others.
Keje buries herself in silence and inaction when the man who betrayed Baran to unjust imprisonment becomes her husband after he buys her from her father. Thirty-five years later, Baran is free again. His untiring search for his love embodies his only livelihood.
The storyline assumes numerous complications through unrelated events to create in Baran once again an innocent bystander of crimes he did not commit. Alongside, Baran confronts at last his worst enemy. In Keje’s presence. Her silence – her way of mourning for the loss of her love to life, will cease only then – she has Baran understand – if she were to witness a falling star. A symbol to her of a tortured soul attaining ultimate freedom – for both lovers…
While I can’t remember how far back in the past, I know exactly how I used to think about the phenomenon of love and its loss: a distinctive flair of melancholy lurked only over the people of Turkey – as with today’s few quick examples. But then, I discovered famous names of non-Turkish roots with the same approach to this utterly uplifting, at the same time soul shattering reality of life. And here I am, sharing some of my related deliberations with you in the form of a poem I have written recently:
when love is everything
among long-time friends once again
enduring the familiar left-side pain
decades surpassed their centuries
the hurt remains the same
an Immortal Beloved crafted life
birthed death ever so keen
a blazing desire in-between
oh geh mit, geh mit
oh accompany me, accompany me
Hebuterne embraced the call
Plath followed it with ease
Claudel suffered a living disease
King Edward VIII stunned the monarchy
etched to memory for lives to come:
the essence negates all that is told
nourishes from the authentic self;
sates and attains for evermore,
absolute ecstasy at the core.
For love is everything.
hülya yılmaz (October 3, 2013)
Have you ever grieved in deep sorrow for losing love but led yourself to conclude you had no right to mourn in the open because your loss was not one to death?
Filed under Reflections
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