TAMER ÖNCÜL

Tamer Öncül was born in Nicosia in 1960. He completed his pri Tamer Öncül was born in Nicosia in 1960. He completed his primary and secondary education in Cyprus. He graduated from IsIstanbul University Faculty of Dentistry in 1984. Tamer Öncül, who pioneered the establishment of the Cyprus Turkish Artists and Writers Union, served as the general secretary and chairman of the Union. He is one of the editors of Insan Zaman Mekan, which is the publication of the Union and “Şiirden”. He participated on the editorial boards of many literary magazines in Cyprus and Turkey. His poetry adventure began in the mid-70s by kneading socialist realist poetry with the sensitivity of “Cypriotism” and searching for his line… His poem and artikles are published in follow- ing magazines: “Genç Kıbrıslı”, “Milliyet Sanat”, “T.B Kültür Sanat Dergisi”, “Islık”, “Sombahar”, “The New Colonial (English/Turkish)”, “Pygmalion”, “Alaz”, “Yasak Meyve”, “Şiirden”, “Ötekisiz”, “Nea Epohi (Greek)”, “Şehir”, “Akatalpa”, “Kerpiç”, “Şiir Oku”, “Düşlük”, “Kıbrıs Türk Dili Dergisi”, “Edebiyat Gündemi”, “Aykırı Sanat”, “Yeni Biçem”, “Cypriot Identities (English)”, “Hade (Turkish/ Greek)”, “Kuşlama”, “Kıyı”, “Morca”, “Şiir-Lik”, “Poetik-Us”, “Virgül”, “Aynı Gökyüzü Altında” (TurkishGreek),” Cumhuriyet Kitap”, “Varlık”,” E Dergisi”, “Serbesti”, “Yaşasın Edebiyat”, “İmlasız”, Şiirden, “Exangelos (Rumca)”, “Eneken”, “Fractal”, “Kokkini (Greek)”, Neuma, Helis (Rom- anya), Espaco do Ser (Portugal), “Arkabahçe”, “Cadences (Eng./ Tr./ Gr.)”, “İnsan Zaman Mekan ve “Kurşunkalem”… He is one of the organizers of the “International Fikret Demirağ Poetry Festival” and “International Nicosia Poetry Days”. His poems have been translated into English, German, Italian, Arabic, Greek, Latvian, Slovenian, Russian, Macedonian, Romanian, Azerbaijani, Portuguese, Persian, French, Italian, Spanish, Serbian and Albanian and appeared in journals and anthologies. The poetry anthologies prepared by peace activist, journalist, and poet Kamran Mir Hazar to introduce the problems of Hazara children to the world public opinion and created with the products of 125 poets from 66 countries also included Öncül’s poetry: (“Poems For The Hazara”, “Stories of Dawn in Madness”, “An Anthology of World Poet”, MA Anthology in Nepal). He took an active role in organizing joint activities with the Cyprus (Greek) Writers Union, Turkish Writers Union, and Mare Nostrum (Poets of Three Seas); He participated in many Poetry Festivals and events in Southern Cyprus, Rhodes, Romania and Turkey.

He won the Cyprus Turkısh Peace Associaton Poetry and Peace Price in 1982. .“You Ask Me, / Why do you write so much / about war, poet. / To disgust you who are at war…” 

Books of Poetry: The Diary of the Child who Lost His Days (1987); The World is Poem (1992); I Hora –The City- (1996); The Street of Lost Loves (1996); Dreams of Daytime (1998): Inscriptions of Dried Spring (2003); Dreams (2008); Earth ( 2015); I Hora /Seher (2018, in Greek language); Two Rivers (Select poems 2018); Gufi/Hayukus (2020); Offended to the key (2021, With Maria Siakalli. Greek and Turkısh Language); Unpolished Crown Age (2023 Turkish and English).

YILAN

Serpentes

Sizin beyninizden akan

zehrin yanında 

nedir ki benim ağım?

Diliniz öldürücü 

sözcüklerle

dikilir birbirinize;

benden daha kıvrak

dönüp durursunuz

düşünceler cehenneminde.

Beliniz kırılmaz 

eğilip bükülmekten.

Siz de sürünüp durursunuz

bir ömür boyu

baş kaldıramadıklarınızın 

ayakları altında…

Affet, bizi 

kendi kanından doğuran

lanetlenmiş Medusa;

cenneti tüketenlerden korkup

saklanmamalıydık

lepiska saçlarına…

SNAKE

Serpentes

What is my venom 

compared to the toxin

flowing in your brain? 

See how your tongue 

sticks out erected with

venomous words;

more serpentine than I,

you slither amongst

hellish thoughts.

All this squirms

won’t hurt your back!

You crawl as well

for a life time

under the feet of those 

you can’t rebel against…

Forgive us, 

out of your blood we were born 

accursed Medusa;

afraid of those who consumed heaven

we shouldn’t hide

into your flaxen hair…

2014

***

KARGA

Corvus

Beyaz gece kuşuydum 

doğruları söyleyen…

Dilimi kestiler önce

boğuldu lir sesim,

            -ben yine konuştum-

Geceden kovdular;

karanlığı çaldım,

            – böyle başladı hırsızlığım-

Prometheus’un ciğerini

sundunuz; reddettim,

             -kartal gibi onursuz değilim-

Sürgünlüğüme direndim

büründüm karalara… 

              -onu da kıskandı gece-

kıskandı,

tahtıma yakışmayan

uğursuz BAY/KUŞunuz…

Ahh, bakire Athena

ahh, zalim Apollon

doğrular ağır geldi 

kabaran omuzlarınıza…

CROW

Corvus

I was the truth-teller

white bird of the night…

First they cut out my tongue 

suffocating my lyre voice,

                           -but I still spoke out-

I was banished from the night;

so I have stolen the darkness

            -and that’s how I became a thief-

You offered me the liver

of Prometheus; I rejected,

                 -I’m not ignoble like the eagle-

I resisted my exile,

and dressed up in black…

-but the night envied this too-

envied,

that ominous Mr/Owl of yours

who doesn’t befit to my throne…

Ah! You virgin Athena

Ah! You cruel Apollo

the truth outweighed,

your puffed shoulders…

2014

***

GİDENE Babama

Ten büzülür

moraran damarların üstünde

çürüyen yaprağın hırıltısı.

İçi boşalan kemiğe

ihanet eder kas.

Geriye kaçmış çene

büyütür mağaranın ağzını.

Işık boğulur

ilerledikçe derinine karanlığın.

Boşluğa çarpar kirpikler kanatlarını

nefes hafifler…

Son çırpınışlarla direnir yaprak

toprak çekimine,

bir kelebek arar, tutunacak.

İki el çırpınır aynı peronda

hüzünle salınır biri

-gidenesevinçli

dalgalar ötekinde

sarılmaya hazır

-gelene-.

Çürüyen kök göremese de

taze bir filiz daha yeşerir

boy veren tomurcukta.

Çürüyen parmaklar

okşayamasa da sezer tomurcuk

hangi kökten yeşerdiğini.

TO THE ONE WHO GOES

                   To My Father

The skin shrinks,

over the veins turning blue

the murmur of the leave.

The muscle betrays

the hollowing bone.

The chin retracting back

makes the cave’s entrance larger.

the light gets drowned

as it goes deeper into the dark.

The lashes hits the void with their wings

the breaths get lighter…

The leave struggles

against the earth’s gravity

with the final flutters,

looking for a butterfly to hold on.

Two hands waves

on the same train platform

one swings sadly

-to the one who goes

the other one joyful

and ready to hug

-the one who comes-,

Even though the ro

ot does not see

a new sprout turns green

on the newgrown bud.

Even though the rotting fingers

are not able to caress

the bud knows the root

where it comes from.

Tamer Öncül