<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:07:59.106-04:00</updated><category term='Poem'/><category term='Celan'/><category term='Jew'/><category term='Holocaust'/><title type='text'>و</title><subtitle type='html'>الانسان هو قضية</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-2902873128066092772</id><published>2009-05-28T17:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T17:42:19.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bulutlar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Meryem'e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bulutlar...&lt;br /&gt;Köpüklerin arasından doğan ışık&lt;br /&gt;ve sonra karanlık.&lt;br /&gt;Ağır ağır çöker yıkıntıların üzerine...&lt;br /&gt;Sabahın ilk esintisiyle kıpırdayan bir yaprağın&lt;br /&gt;                                                                hışırtısı...&lt;br /&gt;Bir harf, bir hece, bir kelime&lt;br /&gt;Bir cümlenin sessizliğiyle yoğurulan toprak&lt;br /&gt;ve bir dağın ağırlığıyla söze gelen şehir.&lt;br /&gt;Usulca, sessizce, dilsizce...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                             28/5/2009&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-2902873128066092772?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/2902873128066092772/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=2902873128066092772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/2902873128066092772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/2902873128066092772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2009/05/bulutlar.html' title='Bulutlar'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-2031564661539671030</id><published>2008-11-03T17:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T17:55:56.495-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mecaz</title><content type='html'>Diyorlar ki, İstanbul bir köprüdür...&lt;br /&gt;Doğu'yla Batı, Asya'yla Avrupa arasında...&lt;br /&gt;Bırakın ben vapuruma bineyim,&lt;br /&gt;Batıp da boğulmak olsa da sonunda, Boğaz'ın sularında...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-2031564661539671030?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/2031564661539671030/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=2031564661539671030&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/2031564661539671030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/2031564661539671030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2008/11/mecaz.html' title='Mecaz'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-7194936766238171119</id><published>2007-12-22T23:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T23:45:17.395-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quarter of the Infidels</title><content type='html'>Translations from Migirdic Margosyan continue, though completion in any shape or form still looks far off.  This is the self-titled first chapter from the novella "Quarter of the Infidels":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Quarter of the Infidels&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;It was a winter’s day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Snow, having completely covered narrow “küçes”&lt;a style="" href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportFootnotes]--&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; of Diyarbakır, continued to reign everywhere.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Snow, extending along the path like the beard of St. Sarkis and climbing the stairs in the courtyard of the parish, embraced and kissed the holy cross which was sanctifying the city all the way up from the top of the bell tower. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Uso was the sexton of the parish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was also called Crazy Uso.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In fact, it would be more accurate to call him “half witted.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Before Uso was appointed as the sexton of the parish, he was working by the side of his brother Sabro the Ironsmith who was three years older than him, blowing the bellow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now and again, Uso with his scarce wisdom would attempt to give advice to Sabro whose habit of needlessly flaming up at everything won him the nickname “bundle of nerves.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hell would break loose, fraternity would be forgotten and the bickering would turn into a fight between master and apprentice, but things would be settled amicably without any bloodshed thanks to the intervention of the neighbors who always seemed to arrive at the eleventh hour.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Uso would furiously take off his leather apron and throw it at his big brother.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Making it clear that he is quitting, Uso would scream “May my mother become my wife if I ever set foot in this store again.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hurling further strings of abuses, he would go four stores down to the store of his twin, Rızgo the Ironsmith, heading straight for the bellow and getting down to work like he usually does after similar fights.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Uso’s shuttling back and forth between his brothers Sabro and Rızgo was actually a commonplace occurence.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No one ever found these fights strange.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sabro and Rızgo were both married and lived in separate households.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Because their father was dead, their mother Rehan Baco was living in a small room in the courtyard of the parish together with her son Uso.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Uso’s appointment to the post, which became vacant with the death of Sexton Zıfkar, was considered the most correct and appropriate among all the decisions taken by the administrative council of the parish up to that very day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Armenian community greeted this decision of the council with applause, saying that “they killed two birds with one stone.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;First of all, Uso’s apprenticeship was ended in his forties and these fraternal fights, which might one day have possibly ended with bloodshed, with a knife, with a sickle or even with a sledge, have been prevented.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Secondly and most importantly, this official appointment might perhaps also prevent Uso from tolling the bell whenever he felt like it...&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But then, because he would be staying at the parish all the time (that is at home) as necessitated by his job; people following him about on the streets, ridiculing him and thus amusing themselves would have to go without his unheard-of profanities.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;On that day, that snow-white day, when Uso heard the news about Meryem’s death, he was truly and deeply saddened.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He would cry after everyone’s death.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After each death, his heart would be branded with a hot iron. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In fact, he was usually drowned in tears.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After he did his duty for Meryem by way of crying, he started to grumble by himself:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;“The beautiful Meryem died while Hıçe is standing safe and sound…&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;bak sen bu işe!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;His lunacy and half-wittedness aside, after he became the sexton, or rather after he was officially appointed to the post, Uso took his job very seriously.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After having shed the adequate amount of tears for Meryem, remembering his blessed duty, Uso ran hurriedly and ripped off the bell rope from where it was tied on the wall.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pulling the rope with all his might, he started tolling the bell.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While the chimes were spreading like waves through the streets of the city, reverberating through the piles of snow on the roofs, Uso was grumbling:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“The bride died while the mother-in-law is standing.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“The mother-in-law is alive, while the bride died needlessly!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Should this be happening in this severe winter?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;God must have gone crazy!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;“Repentance, repentance, repentance…”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;The muezzin&lt;a style="" href="#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportFootnotes]--&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;[2]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; of the nearby Shaikh Matar Mosque endured Uso’s perpetual chimes by asking for patience from God. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Eventually, this made him remember his own duty and climbing to the historical four-legged minaret, he too started calling out:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;" lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;“Allah-u-akbar!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Allah-u-akbar!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Ding-dong, ding-dong!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Allah-u!...”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Ding!..”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Akbar!..”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Dong!..”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;When Muezzin Nusret descended from the minaret, with his big nose red from the cold like a tomato; Uso with his short and round figure was still pulling on the rope of the historical bell, rejoicing deep down as the muezzin threw in the towel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The chimes were spreading further and further in waves, hanging like a question mark on the cold-ridden ears of each and every Armenian.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“What’s the matter kirve Bedo, what are these chimes at this time of the day?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Güzellerin Meryem is dead.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“She was saved…&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She isn’t suffering anymore.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“But she was very young.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Age doesn’t matter when it comes to these things.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Indeed.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“May God forgive all her sins, pardon her and bless her soul.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;“Amen…”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;One ear at the bell chimes and the other at his Kurdish customer, Dikran the Ironsmith was trying to makes sense of the chimes while he was screaming at his bellowing apprentice and beating a red-hot piece of iron he just pulled out of the oven, all at the same time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;As soon as he heard the untimely chimes, Tumas the Shoemaker called out to his apprentice:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;“Gırbo!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hurry, run to the parish!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Let’s see why this crazy fellow is tolling the bells yet again…”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;Would Apprentice Gırbo, who was already planning to slip away from the store as soon as possible to play knucklebones with his friends, miss such an opportunity?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He immediately untied the leather apron on his waist and bolted straight to the street.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When, calculating the amount of whipping he will get, Gırbo got back to the store drenched in perspiration, after having played knucklebones with his friends and having beaten all of them; he got an earful from his master:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Where the hell were you for the last two hours, you son of a bitch?!!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;“Master, Güzeller’s Meryem is dead.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;Yet his master had already learned the reason for the chimes from Sago the Tinsmith and from Samo the Scarfmaker and from Sıko the Mason and from cross-eyed Dono and from stingy Nono the Pilgrim.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;With the descent of Muezzin Nusret from the minaret; Uso, considering himself victorious, rushed to the street after winding the bell rope to the hook on the wall.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was going to the far districts, to the farthest ones, to the deaf ones living there, to the ones who have not yet heard the chimes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Along the way, he gave the news to every single Armenian he encountered, each time in a different wording:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Güzeller’s Meryem died.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Uncle Dikro! Güzeller’s Meyro, Hıçe’s bride is dead.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;“Uncle Sako, did you hear?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Meyro the most beautiful, too, has died.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;Soaked with sweat on this cold winter day, Uso, reached the Quarter of the Infidels, rolling inside the snow with his short figure, cursing time and again at this shoe which came out of his foot sinking into the snow.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;When Uso, with the comfort of doing his duty in full, made his way back to the parish dog tired, Meryem’s name was being mentioned in all the homes and stores:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“The most beautiful!” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Poor thing!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“May God forgive her sins!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“God forgive me, but really it wasn’t her turn…”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Why would you take away the young instead of the old!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“What a shame!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“How beautiful were her eyes!..”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“What height!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What figure!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“What eyebrows!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What eyes!..”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“And her way of walking?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“What about her playful dancing at the weddings and other feasts?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Behind her, two orphans…”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Hıçe will look after them…”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;“Hıçe can’t even look after herself!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;All this talking and commenting continued until Meryem’s funeral.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The parish was packed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Uso thought this was because of him and because of the bells which he enjoyed to toll so much.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Nearly everyone was in the parish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The only person who did not come was Vanes who had a screw loose and therefore had his nickname confirmed by everyone as “Vanes the Nutcrack.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Except for the Sundays, he would not close down his store or hand it to his apprentice to come to church, not even to a funeral.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At any rate, nothing more was expected of someone like him. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;What else can you expect from the man who, when asked about his trade, answers with a smirk, boasting:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;" lang="TR"&gt;I am tailor for donkeys!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;They took Meryem and buried her right next to her daughter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The daughter she gave birth to just six months ago...&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;With some tears, a little incense and quite a lot of prayer from Father Arsen…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;The good deeds of the first day were completed with the distribution of tahini helva and bread to the destitute Kurdish kids who were watching Father Arsen’s beard, his black robe and his silver cross with astonishment and curiosity.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;When Eğuş the Shoemaker went back to sewing shoes, Mero the Ironsmith back to making a snare for wolves, lame Nışo the Carpenter back to making flutes out of a plum tree, Henuş back to nailing horseshoes; in short, when everyone went back to their business, the Most Beautiful was left alone to her soil.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Attar Yusuf who was of Chaldean stock and Barber Yakup who was of Assyrian stock continued to play checkers exactly from where they left off.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;There were two who lost sleep that night: Meryem’s husband Sıko the Mason, and old Hıçe who was feeling strangely guilty for not having died before her bride.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When Sıke laid himself down that night, his little son Seto and his eight-year old daughter Teko were already fast asleep.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the dim light of a small oil lamp; Sıke, together with his mother H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;" lang="TR"&gt;ıçe,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt; was looking at the picture of a smiling, youthful Meryem hanging on the wall.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;While St. Sarkis, stroking his white beard, was wandering outside in the narrow streets of Diyarbakır that winter night, so was Meryem looking for her own warm bed: her husband Sıke’s hairy bosom.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style=""&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportFootnotes]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;hr align="left" size="1" width="33%"&gt;  &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;  &lt;div style="" id="ftn1"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoFootnoteText"&gt;&lt;a style="" href="#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*Columbia University, Department of Middle Eastern Languages and Cultures&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoFootnoteText"&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportFootnotes]--&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Küçe is &lt;span style="" lang="TR"&gt;street in Kurdish&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="" id="ftn2"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoFootnoteText"&gt;&lt;a style="" href="#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportFootnotes]--&gt;&lt;span class="MsoFootnoteReference"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;[2]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="" lang="TR"&gt;Muezzin is one who calls Muslims to prayer.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-7194936766238171119?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/7194936766238171119/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=7194936766238171119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7194936766238171119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7194936766238171119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/12/quarter-of-infidels.html' title='Quarter of the Infidels'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-5650050027876801865</id><published>2007-12-01T02:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T17:45:26.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Garip</title><content type='html'>Garip olmak için mi bu yollardan geçtim?&lt;br /&gt;Garip olmak için mi buralara geldim?&lt;br /&gt;Garip olmayı ben mi seçtim?&lt;br /&gt;Garip geldik, garip gideriz bu dünyadan...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-5650050027876801865?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/5650050027876801865/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=5650050027876801865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/5650050027876801865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/5650050027876801865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/12/garip.html' title='Garip'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-8001507532184751616</id><published>2007-11-15T23:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T23:53:32.409-05:00</updated><title type='text'>İsimsiz</title><content type='html'>Baş koyduğumuz bu yolun&lt;br /&gt;nereye vardığının   &lt;br /&gt;farkında mıyız?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-8001507532184751616?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/8001507532184751616/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=8001507532184751616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/8001507532184751616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/8001507532184751616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/11/isimsiz.html' title='İsimsiz'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-7105852319845092992</id><published>2007-11-06T06:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T06:56:20.385-05:00</updated><title type='text'>General, tankın ne kadar güçlü</title><content type='html'>Bir ormanı yıkar geçer,&lt;br /&gt;Yüz insanı ezer geçer.&lt;br /&gt;Ama bir kusuru vardır:&lt;br /&gt;Bir sürücüye muhtaçdır.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;General, bombardıman uçağın ne kadar güçlü.&lt;br /&gt;Fırtınadan hızlı uçar,&lt;br /&gt;Bir filden fazla taşır.&lt;br /&gt;Ama bir kusuru vardır:&lt;br /&gt;Bir ustaya muhtaçdır.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;General, insan dediğin ne kadar yeteneklidir.&lt;br /&gt;Uçurmasını da bilir,&lt;br /&gt;Öldürmesini de.&lt;br /&gt;Ama bir kusuru vardır:&lt;br /&gt;Bilir düşünmesini de.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Bertolt Brecht&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-7105852319845092992?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/7105852319845092992/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=7105852319845092992&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7105852319845092992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7105852319845092992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/11/general-tankn-ne-kadar-gl.html' title='General, tankın ne kadar güçlü'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-7954052637064260285</id><published>2007-11-06T06:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T06:31:31.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Çözüm</title><content type='html'>17 Haziran ayaklanmasından sonra&lt;br /&gt;Yazarlar sendikasının sekreteri&lt;br /&gt;Stalinallee'de el ilanları dağıttırmış.&lt;br /&gt;Bunların üzerinde, halkın&lt;br /&gt;Hükûmetin güvenini boşa çıkardığı&lt;br /&gt;Ve şimdi bunu ancak iki misli&lt;br /&gt;Çalışarak geri kazanabileceği yazıyormuş.&lt;br /&gt;O halde, hükûmet halkı feshetse&lt;br /&gt;Yerine de yenisini seçse&lt;br /&gt;Daha kolay olmaz mıydı?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                         - Bertolt Brecht&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-7954052637064260285?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/7954052637064260285/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=7954052637064260285&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7954052637064260285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7954052637064260285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/11/zm.html' title='Çözüm'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-4116277758143513387</id><published>2007-10-23T11:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T12:59:39.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mother Tongue Exploits</title><content type='html'>The following passage is a translation from Migirdic Margosyan's autobiographical short story "My Mother Tongue Exploits" (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Anadili Serüvenim&lt;/span&gt;) which was first published in the form of a letter to Hagop Mintzuri (another famous Armenian author), in Armenian.  Of course, my translation is from the Turkish version, rewritten by the author for the collection "Our Ticket Was Cut to Istanbul" (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Biletimiz İstanbul'a Kesildi&lt;/span&gt;) published in 1998.  Margosyan was born in the Kurdish city of Diarbekir in 1948 to an Armenian family.  The following epitomizes Margosyan's work which mainly deals with the odd and amusing situations stemming from this accident of birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This passage is part of a translation project that I might never be able to complete.  This is partly out of respect for the author, whose &lt;span chatdir="2"&gt;beautiful long Turkish sentences &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span chatdir="2"&gt;weaved together with the mastery of a life-long tailor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span chatdir="2"&gt; I had to tear apart.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That moment, that journey affected my life  in a way that I could never have imagined; a life which started in Diarbekir, in Hancepek, in the Quarter of the Godless, left behind after being shipped off, without even being asked,  in a hurry to Istanbul to do nothing but learn my mother tongue.  It was in that moment I left behind the Turkish word "gavur" and the Kurdish word "fılla," which were quickly replaced by this scornful sentence when we were put into the Karagozyan Armenian Orphanage the second we set foot in Istanbul:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Ruuun!  Ruuun!  Kurds arrived from Anatolia!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-4116277758143513387?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/4116277758143513387/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=4116277758143513387&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/4116277758143513387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/4116277758143513387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-mother-tongue-exploits.html' title='My Mother Tongue Exploits'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-478882273437990104</id><published>2007-10-10T14:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T14:55:49.502-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Küllerin şanı</title><content type='html'>Küllerin şanı arkasında&lt;br /&gt;titreyen-kenetlenmiş&lt;br /&gt;üçyoldaki ellerinin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pontik bir zamanlar: burada,&lt;br /&gt;bir damla,&lt;br /&gt;üzerinde&lt;br /&gt;boğulmuş küreğin,&lt;br /&gt;derin&lt;br /&gt;taşlaşmış yeminin içinde,&lt;br /&gt;çağıldıyor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Dikey&lt;br /&gt;nefesipliğinin üzerinde, önceden,&lt;br /&gt;yukarıdan daha yüksek,&lt;br /&gt;iki ağrıdüğümünün arasında,&lt;br /&gt;parlak Tatarayı'nın bize doğru tırmanışı sırasında,&lt;br /&gt;Ben beni gömdüm senin içine ve sana.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Küllerin-&lt;br /&gt;şanı arkanızda&lt;br /&gt;üçyol-&lt;br /&gt;elleri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Önünüze, doğudan, yuvarlanan,&lt;br /&gt;korkunç.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kimse&lt;br /&gt;tanıklık etmez&lt;br /&gt;tanıklara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                       - Paul Celan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-478882273437990104?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/478882273437990104/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=478882273437990104&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/478882273437990104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/478882273437990104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/10/kllerin.html' title='Küllerin şanı'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-4483608225737645985</id><published>2007-07-20T17:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T17:46:04.309-04:00</updated><title type='text'>İplikten güneşler</title><content type='html'>Celan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İplikten güneşler,&lt;br /&gt;gri-siyah çölün üzerinde...&lt;br /&gt;Ağaç&lt;br /&gt;yüksekliğinde bir düşünce&lt;br /&gt;ışığın sesini kavrıyor: çok şarkı&lt;br /&gt;var daha söylenecek&lt;br /&gt;Ötesinde insanlığın...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-4483608225737645985?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/4483608225737645985/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=4483608225737645985&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/4483608225737645985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/4483608225737645985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/07/iplikten-gneler.html' title='İplikten güneşler'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-7973876946303527518</id><published>2007-07-19T17:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T17:38:13.363-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Durmak</title><content type='html'>Paul Celan'a devam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durmak gölgesinde,&lt;br /&gt;havadaki bir yaranın.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiç kimse-ve-hiç birşey-için-durmak.&lt;br /&gt;Tanınmadan,&lt;br /&gt;senin için&lt;br /&gt;yalnız.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İçinde yer olan herşeyle birlikte,&lt;br /&gt;konuşmadan da olsa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-7973876946303527518?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/7973876946303527518/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=7973876946303527518&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7973876946303527518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7973876946303527518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/07/durmak.html' title='Durmak'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-7519532950674021051</id><published>2007-06-04T03:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T10:00:54.389-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jew'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holocaust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celan'/><title type='text'>Ölümün Şarkısı</title><content type='html'>Aşağıdaki dizeler Rumen Yahudisi şair Paul Celan'a ait.  İkinci Dünya Savaşı sırasında Nazi işbirlikçisi Rumen rejimi tarafından kendisi de bir toplama kampına yollanan Celan, ailesini bu kamplarda kaybetmiş.  Celan'ın şiirlerindeki en önemli tema bu kamplarda yaşananların anlatılmazlığı, özellikle de elinizdeki tek şey size bu acıyı yaşatanların lisanıysa...  Kimbilir belki Türkçe geç de olsa Celan'ın derdine çare olur...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not: Bu şiir ilk tercüme denemem olduğu için nazik olmanızı rica ediyorum.  Belki bu şiir bunun için çok iyi bir seçim değil ama böyle olması gerekti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şafağın kara sütünü içeriz akşamları&lt;br /&gt;içeriz öğlenleri ve sabahları içeriz geceleri&lt;br /&gt;içeriz ve içeriz&lt;br /&gt;göklerde bir mezar kazarız darda yatılmasın diye&lt;br /&gt;Adamın biri oturur evinde yılanlarla oynayan bir adam yazar&lt;br /&gt;yazar Almanya'ya etraf karardığında altın saçların Margarete&lt;br /&gt;yazar bunu ve evinin önüne çıkar yıldızların parlaklığında&lt;br /&gt;köpeklerini kendinden yana çağırır&lt;br /&gt;çağırır Yahudilerini dışarı ıslıkla bir mezar kazdırır onlara toprakta&lt;br /&gt;emreder bize haydi şimdi dansa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şafağın kara sütü seni içeriz geceleri&lt;br /&gt;içeriz seni sabahları ve öğlenleri içeriz akşamları&lt;br /&gt;içeriz ve içeriz&lt;br /&gt;Adamın biri oturur evinde yılanlarla oynayan bir adam yazar&lt;br /&gt;yazar Almanya'ya etraf karardığında altın saçların Margarete&lt;br /&gt;Kül rengi saçların Sulamith bir mezar kazarız göklerde&lt;br /&gt;darda yatılmasın diye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bağırır biriniz daha derinine saplasın toprağın öbürünüz çalıp söylerken&lt;br /&gt;kemerindeki demiri kavrayıp sallar gözleri mavi&lt;br /&gt;belini daha derine vursun biriniz ötekiler şarkıyı çalmaya devam ederken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şafağın kara sütü seni içeriz geceleri&lt;br /&gt;içeriz seni sabahları ve öğlenleri içeriz akşamları&lt;br /&gt;içeriz ve içeriz&lt;br /&gt;Adamın biri oturur evinde altın saçların Margarete&lt;br /&gt;kül rengi saçların Sulamith yılanlarla oynayan adam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bağırır daha tatlı çalın şu ölümü Ölüm Almanya'dan bir ustadır&lt;br /&gt;bağırır daha kasvetli çalın şu kemanları o zaman duman olup göklere yükselirsiniz&lt;br /&gt;O zaman bulutlarda bir mezarınız olur darda yatmazsınız&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şafağın kara sütü seni içeriz geceleri&lt;br /&gt;içeriz seni öğlenleri Ölüm Almanya'dan bir ustadır&lt;br /&gt;içeriz akşamları ve sabahları içeriz ve içeriz&lt;br /&gt;Ölüm gözleri mavi bir ustadır Almanya'dan&lt;br /&gt;Tam onikiden vurur sizi bir mermiyle kurşundan&lt;br /&gt;salar üzerimize köpeklerini göklerde bir mezar bağışlar bize&lt;br /&gt;Yılanlarla oynar ve hayaller kurar Ölüm bir ustadır&lt;br /&gt;                                                                     Almanya'dan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;altın saçların Margarete&lt;br /&gt;kül rengi saçların Sulamith&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-7519532950674021051?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/7519532950674021051/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=7519532950674021051&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7519532950674021051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7519532950674021051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/06/lmn-arks.html' title='Ölümün Şarkısı'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-3294931588856298273</id><published>2007-05-05T14:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T14:40:23.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben Müslüman'ım...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ben New York taksilerinde direksiyon sallayanım,&lt;span style="" lang="DE"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ücr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="TR"&gt;â bir köşede sokak lambası ışığında kitap okuyan,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çeçenistan’da Rus mezâlimi tarafından ezilen,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mardin’de ordu tarafından kurşuna dizilen,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bağdat’ta işgal kuvvetleriyle kanının son damlasına kadar çarpışan,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ve Necef’te kahpe bir bombayla son nefesini veren,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben Müslüman’ım.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="TR"&gt;Ben Filistin’de bir avuç toprağı çalınan,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somali’de bir lokma ekmeği elinden alınan,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abu Gureyb’de onuru kırılan,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guantanamo’da suratına tükürülen,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darfur’da kardeşinden zulüm gören,&lt;br /&gt;Ve Dünya’nın dört bir yanında mülteci kamplarında sürünen,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Ben Müslüman’ım.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-3294931588856298273?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/3294931588856298273/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=3294931588856298273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/3294931588856298273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/3294931588856298273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/05/ben-mslmanm.html' title='Ben Müslüman&apos;ım...'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-7896090889646234465</id><published>2007-04-22T18:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T23:49:19.347-04:00</updated><title type='text'>İsimsiz</title><content type='html'>Bugün gazetede gördüm seni...&lt;br /&gt;Kollarını alabildiğince açıp kucaklamışsın toprağı...&lt;br /&gt;Gözlerin açık, uzaklarda bir yerlere bakmakta...&lt;br /&gt;Baktığın yerde belki ocağın tütmekte...&lt;br /&gt;Belki anan yuvanda sabırsızca dönüşünü beklemekte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="DE"&gt;Belki de beben kundağında ağlamakta...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kimbilir belki de bekleyenin, ağlayanın yok...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vücûdun çürüyerek toprağa karışmakta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-7896090889646234465?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/7896090889646234465/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=7896090889646234465&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7896090889646234465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/7896090889646234465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2007/04/isimsiz.html' title='İsimsiz'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-230861687751768235</id><published>2006-10-28T15:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T16:00:30.995-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Senin yüzünden...</title><content type='html'>Suçlamayı sevmem hiç başkalarını ben...&lt;br /&gt;Ama sen gerçekten bir başkasın...&lt;br /&gt;Eğer geceleri uykusuz kalıyorsam senin yüzünden...&lt;br /&gt;Gözlerimi kapadığımda bile seni görmem,&lt;br /&gt;Şu mereti içmem hep senin yüzünden...&lt;br /&gt;Yalnız kalabilmek için herkesten kaçmam,&lt;br /&gt;Parkların kuytu köşelerinde boş boş oturmam,&lt;br /&gt;Ve asla yalnız kalamamam...&lt;br /&gt;Hep senin yüzünden...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-230861687751768235?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/230861687751768235/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=230861687751768235&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/230861687751768235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/230861687751768235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/10/senin-yznden.html' title='Senin yüzünden...'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-5337358190340842452</id><published>2006-10-22T17:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T17:12:41.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ömre bedel...</title><content type='html'>Senin o kıvırcık saçların,&lt;br /&gt;O ceylan gözlerin,&lt;br /&gt;O gönülden gülüşün,&lt;br /&gt;O kadife sesin,&lt;br /&gt;Ve o tatlı sözlerin...&lt;br /&gt;İnan ki bir ömre bedel...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-5337358190340842452?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/5337358190340842452/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=5337358190340842452&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/5337358190340842452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/5337358190340842452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/10/mre-bedel.html' title='Ömre bedel...'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-8430661294487114379</id><published>2006-10-16T22:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:21:27.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Uzaklarda</title><content type='html'>Sana yaklaşmak imkansızken,&lt;br /&gt;Senden uzak durmak neden bu kadar zor?&lt;br /&gt;Ben seni gönlüme lâyık görürken,&lt;br /&gt;Bir resmine bile sahip olamamam neden?&lt;br /&gt;Biliyorum sen de beni seviyorsun!&lt;br /&gt;Gel, hadi, sana olan aşkımı ziyân etme...&lt;br /&gt;Gözlerinin söylediklerini duyabiliyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Yeter artık bize zûlüm etme...&lt;br /&gt;Yalvarırım, gel artık...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-8430661294487114379?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/8430661294487114379/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=8430661294487114379&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/8430661294487114379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/8430661294487114379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/10/uzaklarda.html' title='Uzaklarda'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-116102221172660522</id><published>2006-10-16T14:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:18.369-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gurbet</title><content type='html'>Memleket kokusu yerine sigarandan bir nefes çekiyorsan ciğerlerine,&lt;br /&gt;Martılarda bulduğun aşkı kıçıkırık kargalarda aramaya başladıysan eğer,&lt;br /&gt;İçinde memleketi gördüğün gözler yerine yabancı gözlere bakıyorsan,&lt;br /&gt;Telefonu her açtığında eski bir sevgilinin sesi geliyorsa kulağına,&lt;br /&gt;Ya da bazı geceler nedensiz bekliyorsan asla çalmayacak o ruhsuz telefonun başında,&lt;br /&gt;Ve öyle gecelerde uyumak sana zor geliyorsa,&lt;br /&gt;Anla ki o zaman gurbettesin sen...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-116102221172660522?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/116102221172660522/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=116102221172660522&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/116102221172660522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/116102221172660522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/10/gurbet.html' title='Gurbet'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115545632487420577</id><published>2006-08-13T04:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:18.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Artık</title><content type='html'>Artık susmak değil, konuşmak istiyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Kalabalığın içinde yolumu seninle bulmak,&lt;br /&gt;Karanlığımı senin ışığınla aydınlatmak istiyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Ben artık ara sokaklarda değil, senin gözlerinde kaybolmak istiyorum...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115545632487420577?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115545632487420577/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115545632487420577&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115545632487420577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115545632487420577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/08/artk.html' title='Artık'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115484614369862691</id><published>2006-08-06T02:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:18.133-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gözyaşları</title><content type='html'>Bazen seninle konuşmak duraksız saatlerce,&lt;br /&gt;Bazen ismini haykırmak umarsızca gökyüzüne,&lt;br /&gt;Bazen de gecenin karanlığında sessizce oturmak içimden gelse de,&lt;br /&gt;Yazık...  Dertlerin ağırlığını gözyaşları kaldırabiliyor sadece...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115484614369862691?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115484614369862691/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115484614369862691&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115484614369862691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115484614369862691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/08/gzyalar.html' title='Gözyaşları'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115471920234119683</id><published>2006-08-04T15:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:18.074-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hacı</title><content type='html'>Hacı'ya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bugün Hacı'yı gördüm yine bir sokak arasında...&lt;br /&gt;Suratında hiçbir şeyin yokedemediği onuru,&lt;br /&gt;Çuvalını taşıdığı arabası ufacık omuzlarında.&lt;br /&gt;Bir garip heyecanla eğildi çöp bidonuna doğru,&lt;br /&gt;Bulduğu bir parça hurda vardırdı ağzını kulaklarına.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neden sonra bir köşede durdu,&lt;br /&gt;Sanırım okul bahçesinde top oynayan çocukları seyrediyordu.&lt;br /&gt;Belki de derin bir of çekiyordu...&lt;br /&gt;Eve gidene kadar yapacak iş çoktu,&lt;br /&gt;Hacı'nın çocuklukla kaybedecek zamanı yoktu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birden kafasını çevirip bana doğru baktı,&lt;br /&gt;Yüzünde yine o haylaz gülümsemesi vardı.&lt;br /&gt;Hava artık yavaştan kararmaktaydı...&lt;br /&gt;Hacı yeniden arabasını sırtlandı,&lt;br /&gt;Ve bir başka sokağa doğru yol aldı...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bizim mahallede hurda toplardı Hacı...&lt;br /&gt;Sekiz, bilemedin dokuz yaşındaydı...&lt;br /&gt;Muhakkak herkes gibi yüreğinde vardı bir acı...&lt;br /&gt;Yine de geleceğe umutla bakmaktaydı,&lt;br /&gt;Sırtında evine ekmek taşımaktaydı.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neden bilmem ağladım bugün yine yalnız kalınca...&lt;br /&gt;Belki memleketi gördüm Hacı'nın suratında...&lt;br /&gt;Belki kızgınlığımdan duyarsız insanlara...&lt;br /&gt;Belki de Hacı'nın gülümsemesi umut oldu bana,&lt;br /&gt;Bakacağım onun gözlerinden yarınlara...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115471920234119683?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115471920234119683/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115471920234119683&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115471920234119683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115471920234119683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/08/hac.html' title='Hacı'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115432112095560665</id><published>2006-07-31T00:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:18.013-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Arap bebekler</title><content type='html'>Siyonist rejimin kahpeliğini, zûlmünü anlatmaya Doğu'nun tüm kalemlerinin mürekkebi yetmez...  Yine de, birkaç dizeyle de olsa safımızı belli etmek bu topraklara boynumuzun borcudur...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bu sabah gözlerimi Gazze'de açtım,&lt;br /&gt;Ve acizliğime bir kez daha şaştım.&lt;br /&gt;Yanımda üç yaşında bir çocuk son nefesini verirken,&lt;br /&gt;Ben sadece ellerimi göğe açtım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bu sabah gözlerimi Beyrut'ta açtım,&lt;br /&gt;Ve zûlmün şiddetine bir kez daha şaştım,&lt;br /&gt;Bir bebek annesinin karnında can verirken,&lt;br /&gt;Ben utanarak insanlığımdan kaçtım...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115432112095560665?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115432112095560665/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115432112095560665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115432112095560665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115432112095560665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/07/arap-bebekler_31.html' title='Arap bebekler'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115420798102077999</id><published>2006-07-29T17:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Haykırış</title><content type='html'>Haykırışlarımı duyuyor musun İstanbul?&lt;br /&gt;Sıcağın kavurduğu Kadıköy'ün o vurdumduymaz keşmekeşinde? &lt;br /&gt;Her çeşit insanın doldurduğu o püfür püfür vapurlarının güvertelerinde? &lt;br /&gt;Ya Sahilyolu'ndaki tembel balıkçının eğreti şemsiyesinin altında? &lt;br /&gt;Peki ya geceleri sadece martıların uğradığı Kız Kulesi'nin o eşsiz yalnızlığında?&lt;br /&gt;Sanırım, duymuyorsun sen beni İstanbul...&lt;br /&gt;Kimseyi sokmadığın o ıssız sokaklarında...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Anlıyorum ki haykırıyorum sanarken, &lt;br /&gt;Sesim aslında ne kadar kuvvetsiz... &lt;br /&gt;Ve sen beni sevmezken,&lt;br /&gt;"Seni seviyorum!" diye haykırmak ne kadar da gereksiz...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115420798102077999?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115420798102077999/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115420798102077999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115420798102077999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115420798102077999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/07/haykr.html' title='Haykırış'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115360250552650156</id><published>2006-07-22T17:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.832-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mahpus</title><content type='html'>Ben sana olan aşkımı;&lt;br /&gt;Ne bir ağaç gövdesine,&lt;br /&gt;Ne bir sigara pakedinin üstüne,&lt;br /&gt;Ne bir gecenin neşesine,&lt;br /&gt;Ne de iki çift dudağın arasına hapsettim...&lt;br /&gt;Seni kalbime davet ettim, &lt;br /&gt;İçeri girmedin, gittin...&lt;br /&gt;Bittin...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115360250552650156?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115360250552650156/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115360250552650156&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115360250552650156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115360250552650156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/07/mahpus.html' title='Mahpus'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115299857373019677</id><published>2006-07-15T17:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.769-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Özledim</title><content type='html'>Güllerden güzel gülüşünü özledim,&lt;br /&gt;Sadece papatyaların yakıştığı saçlarını özledim,&lt;br /&gt;Gözlerimden akan yaşları silen ellerini özledim,&lt;br /&gt;Beni benden alan gözlerini özledim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben sana kaçamak bakışlarla bakmayı özledim,&lt;br /&gt;İçtiğin her sigarayı bıkmadan usanmadan yakmayı özledim,&lt;br /&gt;Bugün içime çektiğim her nefeste aklıma sen geldin,&lt;br /&gt;Dualarımda Allah'tan bir tek seni istedim,&lt;br /&gt;Ve sabaha bağlanan bu gece yine seni bekledim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115299857373019677?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115299857373019677/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115299857373019677&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115299857373019677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115299857373019677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/07/zledim.html' title='Özledim'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115239678778436728</id><published>2006-07-08T18:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.707-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yalnızca sen...</title><content type='html'>Sen sessiz kaldırımlarda yürüyen adımlarımdasın...&lt;br /&gt;Sigaramın gecenin sonsuzluğuna doğru yitip giden dumanında...&lt;br /&gt;Okuduğum her satırın başında ve sonunda...&lt;br /&gt;Yol kenarından eğilip topladığım çiçeklerin kokusunda...&lt;br /&gt;Sabah uyandığımda bahçedeki serçelerin ötüşünde...&lt;br /&gt;Taze demlenmiş bir çaydan aldığım her yudumda...&lt;br /&gt;Yanımda olmasan da hep gönlümde, hep aklımda...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ve şimdi sen sessiz kaldırımlarda yürüyen adımlarımdasın...&lt;br /&gt;Yalnızca sen...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115239678778436728?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115239678778436728/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115239678778436728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115239678778436728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115239678778436728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/07/yalnzca-sen.html' title='Yalnızca sen...'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115222135402396922</id><published>2006-07-06T17:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.649-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Denize Âşık</title><content type='html'>Sen hiç denize âşık oldun mu?&lt;br /&gt;Güzel bir dostla Kalamış'ta ona karşı durdun mu?&lt;br /&gt;Ya da yalnız başına kendini,&lt;br /&gt;Yakamoza dalan bir takaya anlamsızca bakarken buldun mu?&lt;br /&gt;Bir anlık dibe vurup kendinden geçmeden,&lt;br /&gt;Boğaz'a doğru bir iskemleye kurulup, &lt;br /&gt;İstanbul'un zarif güzelliğine bir kez daha vuruldun mu?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115222135402396922?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115222135402396922/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115222135402396922&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115222135402396922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115222135402396922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/07/denize-k.html' title='Denize Âşık'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-115179272696516470</id><published>2006-07-01T18:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>İstanbul</title><content type='html'>İstanbul kadar sevdim seni...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sesin Suadiye'de şafak vakti ezanın sesi,&lt;br /&gt;Gözlerin her sabah Boğaz'ı yaran Eminönü vapurları gibi mağrur,&lt;br /&gt;Duruşun sanki Sultanahmet,&lt;br /&gt;Durduğu yerden dünyaları kavrayan,&lt;br /&gt;Gülüşün bir martının çığlığı, &lt;br /&gt;Havalanır öğlene doğru Sirkeci civârından,&lt;br /&gt;Ve kokun mimoza çiçeklerinin kokusu bizim mahallenin,&lt;br /&gt;Bana aklımın zincirlerini kırdırtan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İstanbul kadar sevdim seni...&lt;br /&gt;Bir gözyaşıyla...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İstanbul'un bensiz İstanbul olacağını, benim İstanbulsuz ben olamayacağımı bilerek...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-115179272696516470?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/115179272696516470/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=115179272696516470&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115179272696516470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/115179272696516470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/07/istanbul.html' title='İstanbul'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-114053181998208291</id><published>2006-02-21T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.467-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamas ziyaretinden çıkarılacak dersler</title><content type='html'>Bismillahirahmanirahim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geride bıraktığımız hafta Türkiye ve Ortadoğu için oldukça önemli ve beklenmedik gelişmelere sahne oldu.  AKP hükümeti, siyasi karnesine bakıldığında iktidara geldiğinden beri en zayıf notlara sahip olduğu dış politikada gerçekten çok önemli bir hamle yaptı ve Halit Meşal'in başkanlığını yaptığı Hamas heyetini Ankara'da kabul etti.  Bazı kesimleri Amerika'dan çok Amerikacı, İsrail'den çok İsrailci olan Türk medyasında ziyaret geniş yankı buldu.  Ancak bu yankı özgür sesleriyle öne çıkan birkaç yazarı tenzih edersek, mevzubahis kişilerin cehaleti ya da çoğu zaman işgüzarlığının yansısından başka bir şey değildir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ABD ve İsrail, Filistin halkının çoğunluğunun desteğini alarak(Vaşington'da yerine göre bu durum demokrasi veya özgür irade diye de ifade ediliyor) iktidara gelen Hamas'ı ekonomik bir cendereye alma planlarını yapar ve bu amaçla da Rice'ı Arap ülkelerine yollarken, sürgündeki lider Halit Meşal ise bölgedeki temaslarına Türkiye ile başlamayı tercih etti.  Halit Meşal, Filistin davası için çok önemli bir kişi.  1997'de Ürdün'de Hamas'ın baştemsilcisi iken iki Mossad ajanı tarafından zehirlenmiş ve ancak uzun pazarlıklar sonucu, yakalanan iki ajana karşılık olarak, İsrail'den alınan panzehirle hayatını kurtarabilmişti.  Şeyh Yasin ve Abdülaziz Rantisi'nin İsrail tarafından şehit edilmelerinden sonra Hamas içinde iyice ön plana çıkan Halit Meşal Suriye baştemsilcisi olmasının yanında, Hamas'ın aynı zamanda siyasi kanat lideri.  Bilindiği gibi Hamas, seçimlerin kazanılması ve başbakan adayı İsmail Heniye'nin Dünya kamuoyuna açıklanmasından önce can güvenliği nedeniyle Gazze'deki resmi liderinin kimliğini saklı tutuyordu ve Meşal bu süreç içerisinde Dünya çapında Hamas'ın yüzü haline geldi.  Dolayısıyla hükümette yer almayacak olmasına rağmen Meşal'ın Hamas'ın bir numaralı ismi olduğu sugötürmez bir gerçek. Durumunu biraz da Erdoğan'ın siyasi yasaklı haline benzetebiliriz.  Nitekim Erdoğan değil başbakan, milletvekili bile değilken Türk siyasetinde belirli bir ağırlığa sahipti ve yaptığı ABD ziyaretinde de devlet başkanı muamelesi görmüştü.  Türk medyasındaki bazı kesimlerin çıkarması gereken birinci ders, Halit Meşal'in Filistinle yapılacak temaslarda doğru kişi olduğu ve alternatifi olmadığıdır.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medyada ziyaretle ilgili ağırlıkla öne çıkan bir başka görüş ise iki tarafın da güvenine sahip olmayan ve ekonomik bakımdan güçsüz bir Türkiye'nin arabulucuk görevini üstlenemeyeceği ve bu görevin sadece ve sadece ABD'ye ait olduğu görüşüydü.  Bu görüşün gerçekle uzaktan yakından alakası yok.  Öncelikle gözönüne alınması gereken durum ABD'nin Ortadoğu'da siyasi açıdan hızla kan kaybettiği gerçeği.  ABD'nin bölgedeki gerçek müttefikleri sadece ve sadece İsrail ve Türkiye'dir.  Filistinliler dahil olmak üzere hiçbir Arap halkı Amerikalılara güvenmemektedir.  Filistin konusunda yıllardır bozmadıkları duruşun arabuluculuktan çok İsrail'in ağabeyliği olduğunu gözönünde bulundurursak sanırım bu konuda Amerikalıların kendilerinden başka kimseyi suçlayamayız.  ABD sözde arabuluculuk görevine tamamen İsrail tarafından soyundurulmuştur ve özellikle Hamas nezdinde hiçbir kredibiliteye sahip değildir.  Üstüne üstlük şimdiden onları dışlamanın ve yoksaymanın planlarını yapan ABD'nin Hamas liderliğindeki bir Filistin'le girebileceği ilişkiler doğal olarak sınırlıdır.  Oysa Türkiye, bölge siyasetindeki tarihi önemini bir kenara bıraksak bile, bu açıdan ABD'ye göre daha kuvvetli bir ele sahiptir.  Her şeyden önce olası bir görüşmede Türkiye'nin İsrail'i halihazırda tanıması nedeniyle masaya otururken diğer birçok Müslüman ülkenin aksine kaybedeceği bir şey yoktur, ülke olarak kendisini bir açmaza sokma riski yoktur.  Askeri açıdan Türkiye ve İsrail arasındaki geçmiş yakınlıklar ve şu an masada bulunan silah ihaleleri gözönüne alındığında, Türkiye'ye belli kırmızı çizgiler içerisinde olabildiğince yakın olmak da İsrail'in maddi ve manevi olarak yararınadır.  Hamas'ın Ankara'da ağırlanmasının böyle bir kırmızı çizgiyi aşmadığını İsrail'in bir-iki gün içerisinde yumuşayıp, yelkenleri suya indirmesinden rahatça anlayabiliyoruz.  Buna göre cahil Türk medyasının çıkarması gereken ikinci ders Türkiye'nin bölgede liderlik ve arabulucuk potansiyeline sahip olduğu ve bu potansiyeli kullanmak için zaman zaman belli riskler alarak belli sınırları denemesi gerektiğidir.  Şüphesiz ki uluslararası ilişkilerde risk almadan herhangi bir girişimden kazanç sağlanabileceğini düşünmek saflık olur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her şeyden öte Türkiye'nin bölgedeki ağırlığı bir potansiyelden ibaret değildir.  Geçtiğimiz sene, hatırladığınız üzere Pakistan hükümeti İsrail'i tanıma yolundaki ilk adımını Türkiye'nin arabulucuğunda İstanbul'daki dışişleri bakanları görüşmesiyle atmıştır.  Türkiye, bugün İspanya ile birlikte Medeniyetler İttifakı'na öncülük eden, son karikatür skandalından sonra AB tarafından görüşmelere arabuluculuk yapması rica edilen ülkedir.  Halit Meşal'in bölgedeki turuna İran'dan bile önce Türkiye'de başlaması bir tesadüf ya da aceleye getirilmiş bir iç siyaset manevrası değildir.  Meşal'in verdiği bu kararın arkasında yüzlerce yıllık Müslüman-Türk tarihi yatmaktadır.  Anadolu en eski çağlardan beri Dünya'ya damgasını vurmuş devletlere ev sahipliği yapmıştır ve bugün bu coğrafyanın egemen gücü olan Türkiye Cumhuriyeti geçmişiyle, bugünüyle ve geleceğiyle Ortadoğu, K. Afrika, Avrasya ve Avrupa siyasetinde söz sahibi olacak güce sahiptir ve söz sahibi olacaktır.  Dış güçlerin medyadaki psikolojik harekat timleri ne kadar herkesi tersine ikna etmeye çalışsalar da bu millet de bunun farkındadır.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-114053181998208291?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/114053181998208291/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=114053181998208291&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/114053181998208291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/114053181998208291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/02/hamas-ziyaretinden-karlacak-dersler.html' title='Hamas ziyaretinden çıkarılacak dersler'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-113940170080825445</id><published>2006-02-08T07:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jylland kriterleri</title><content type='html'>Senelerdir bıkmadan usanmadan kapısında beklediğimiz AB'den tokat üstüne tokat yemeye devam ediyoruz.  Bosna'da olanlara kafasını çeviren, Kosova'da olanlara uzunca süre hiç tepki vermeyen, Afganistan ve Irak'ta olanları büsbütün yoksayan, şimdi de İran'a karşı ABD ile kolkola girmeye hazırlanan AB, İslam'a karşı olan bu savaşının psikolojik cephesinde ilk bombayı attı.  Peygamberimiz Hz. Muhammed'i(sav) bir terörist gibi resmeden Danimarka gazetesi Jyllands-Posten ve bu karikatür serisini yaraya tuz bastıklarını, asit döktüklerini bile bile yayınlayan Avrupa'nın diğer "büyük" gazeteleri bu hamleyle İslam'a ve bu toprakların insanlarına bir değil iki büyük darbe indiriyorlar.  Bu densizler sadece dinimizce büyük bir günah işlemekle kalmıyorlar, hem de yıllardır katoliğiyle, protestanıyla bas bas bağıran Batı'nın yobazlarına çanak tutuyor ve "Ortadoğu'da terörizmin kaynağı İslam'dır, Muhammed de ilk teröristtir." deliliğine gazetelerinin sütunlarından destek veriyorlar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Eksiksiz tüm Müslüman ülkelerinde çok büyük kalabalıklar zıvanadan çıkmış, bir akıl karışıklığı içinde sağa sola saldırıyorlar.  Danimarka bayrağı mı yaksınlar?  AB temsilcilikleri mi bassınlar?  İskandinav ürünlerini mi boykot etsinler?  Hiçbirinin bir çözüm olmadığının, bu ölçüsüzlere akıl verilmeyeceğinin, bu şımarıkların özür dilemeyeceğinin üç aşağı beş yukarı herkes farkında.  Ama öfkeli kalabalık böyle bir densizliği ve üstüne gelen Avrupalı siyasilerin pişkinliğini sindirebilecek durumda değil...  Hem neden sindirsinler ki zaten?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Bir de İslam'ın hoşgörü dini olduğundan, affetsek ne olacağından dem vurmuyorlar mı?!  Bir kere de Avrupa bir hoşgörü gösterse?  Bir büyüklüğünü görelim be AB!  Ne olur?  Sadece bize değil, kendi ülkelerinde yaşayan şu Müslümanlara bir büyüklük yap.  Gönülden bir özür dile!  Sadece bir karikatür için değil.  Senelerdir hayvan muamelesi yaptığın Müslüman mülteciler için.  Geçtiğimiz Ramazan ayında Paris'in gettosunda can veren çocuklar için.  Bosna'da katledilen Boşnaklar, Kosova'da kesilen Kosovalılar için.  Afganistan'da, Irak'da kafasına bomba düşen çocuklar için.  Bir özür...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   AB yolunda kimbilir daha neleri tamamlaması gerekecek Türkiye'nin...  Daha ne Kıbrıslar, ne sözde soykırımlar, ne Gümrük Birlikleri, ne Kopenhag kriterleri gelecek önümüzdeki masalara.  Hükümetler körü körüne bu Avrupa davasına bağlı olduktan sonra AB yolunda bunların hepsinin aşılacağından hiç bir şüphem yok.  Hani olur ya bir gün Türkiye AB'ye tam üye olarak alınırsa...  O gün Avrupa Jylland kriterlerini yerine getirmiş olacak mı?  Asıl mesele burada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-113940170080825445?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/113940170080825445/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=113940170080825445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113940170080825445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113940170080825445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/02/jylland-kriterleri.html' title='Jylland kriterleri'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-113821022240170839</id><published>2006-01-25T12:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.348-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Neden Müslüman Kardeşler?  Neden Hamas?</title><content type='html'>Bismillahirrahmanirrahim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bildiğiniz gibi bu hafta içinde yapılan Filistin seçimlerinde bu sürece ilk kez katılan Hamas parlamentoda çoğunluğu sağlayacak bir zafer kazandı.  Daha bir kaç ay önce Mısır'da da uzun bir aradan sonra yeniden gündeme gelen Müslüman Kardeşler örgütü bağımsız adaylar aracılığıyla katıldığı Mısır seçimlerinde ABD güdümlü Mübarek rejiminin bin türlü baskısı ve seçim hilesine rağmen hatırı sayılır miktarda oy almıştı.  Şimdiden "barış karşıtı" bir partinin Filistin'de iktidara gelmesinden duyduğu rahatsızlığı dile getiren Bush(?) gibi Batılılar bu seçimin meşruluğunu masaya yatırdılar.  Tabii Hüsnü Mübarek gibi senede 1 milyar dolar ya da El Fetih gibi seçim öncesi 1 milyon dolar Batı yardımı almıyorsanız bu topraklarda "halkın temsilcisi" olmanız gerçekten zor.  Benzer ABD yardımı iddiaları AK Kukla Tiyatrosu'nun da seçilmesi öncesi ve sonrası gündeme gelmişti.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bölge dışından gelen tepkileri bir kenara bırakırsak bence bu son seçim sonuçları Arap ülkelerinde gerçekten de çok önemli gelişmeleri işaret ediyor.  Hasbelkader demokratik seçimlere sahip olan Mısır ve Filistin'de halkın iç ve dış mihraklara karşı sandıkta gösterdiği bu irade gerçekten takdire şayan.  Peki Araplar artık neden Mübarek ve El Fetih gibi sözde demokrat liderlerle yetinmiyor?  Bu, söylemlerinde düşmanlarına karşı şiddetten kaçınmayan ve faaliyetleriyle de bu söylemlerini destekleyen gruplara yöneliş neden?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Öncelikle insanların artık Mübarek gibi ikircikli, Mahmut Abbas gibi kişiliksiz liderlere karnı tok.  Hüsnü Mübarek, ABD'den aldığı yardımları kendi halkı ve mülteciler üzerindeki baskısını arttırmak için kullanırken, Arafat'ın ölümünden sonra başa geçen Abbas'ın henüz değil dişe dokunur bir faaliyeti, elle tutulur bir açıklaması bile yok.  İsrail'e, uluslararası anlaşmalar(Gazze Şeridi, Batı Şeria ve Doğu Kudüs, iki devletli çözüme göre tartışmasız Arap toprağıdır) ve demografik stratejiler nedeniyle çekildiği Gazze Şeridi için Mahmut Abbas'ın bir teşekkür etmediği kaldı!  Oysa İsrail zaten kendinden taraf olan medyanın da yardımıyla bu çekilmeyi bir şova dönüştürerek lütûf gibi göstermiş, Dünya kamuoyu neredeyse hep beraber İsrailli yerleşimcilerin bu dramına(!) hüngür hüngür ağlamıştı.  Tabii ekonomik ve askeri açıdan kuşatılmış, kendi toprağında sabah akşam kontrol noktasından geçmekten, cop, dipçik yemekten illAllah diyen Gazze ve Batı Şeria'daki Arab'ın ağlayanı yok!  Ama Allah'ın sopası yok tabii, Şaron'un şu an nerede olduğu hepimizin malumu.  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Tabii ki bunun yanında ne ABD'nin, ne de AB'nin, ne de başka bir emperyalist gücün petrolün ve diğer doğal kaynakların bol olduğu yerde gerçek bir demokrasiye izin vereceğini düşünmek ahmaklık olur.  Özellikle de yıllarca Latin Amerika'daki diktatörlükleri el altından besleyen ABD, yine demokrasi ve özgürlük adı altında günümüz dünyasında daha büyük jeopolitik öneme sahip Kafkaslar, Ortadoğu ve Orta Asya'ya rejim ihracına başlamıştır.  Ancak gerçek anlamıyla demokratik bir ülkenin kendi milletinin çıkarlarını ABD'nin ve Amerikalıların uğruna feda etmesi, ülkesinin topraklarını, petrolünü, doğalgazını ABD'ye peşkeş çekmesi imkan dahilinde olmadığından, ABD tarzı demokrasinin koskoca bir yalan olduğu aşikardır.  Latin Amerikalılar tabii ki zamanla buna uyandı ve Brezilya, Venezüella, Bolivya, Şili gibi ülkeler kendilerini bir bir bu tuzaktan kurtardılar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bu seçimlerden görünen o ki benzer bir kurtuluş bölgemiz halkları için de yakındır.  Bazı şaşkınlar dışında herkes Batı destekli şaklabanlardan bıkmıştır ve artık yeni çözümlere, bu yeni çözümler için de sıradışı yöntemler ihtiyaç vardır.  Kişiliksiz ve etkisiz politikacıların kullanım süresi geçmiştir.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-113821022240170839?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/113821022240170839/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=113821022240170839&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113821022240170839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113821022240170839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2006/01/neden-mslman-kardeler-neden-hamas.html' title='Neden Müslüman Kardeşler?  Neden Hamas?'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-113263387854717559</id><published>2005-11-21T22:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.288-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Promise of Integration</title><content type='html'>Bismillahirahmanirahim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I thought a lot about this issue before writing about it.  It is really tricky and would open a whole new can of worms, which I might not be willing to open so I will keep this relatively short.  I want to start by saying that I won't try to find any answers to the problems I will be pointing out here as it is not really my job to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   As many of you might know starting on Oct. 27 there was a big civil unrest in France which lasted for around 20 days.  According to the estimates, there were around 9,000 vehicles torched and the total number of arrests came close to 3,000.  More than a 100 policemen were injured during these riots.  Of course the Western media (US media and Fox News specifically) didn't hesitate to turn this into a religious issue and put all blame on Islam once again.  The people who torched the vehicles and fought the police in these riots were mostly immigrants from North Africa, and yes happen to be Muslims.  Let's leave all the prejudices aside and just look at the numbers though.   According to BBC,in France, unemployment rate for people of foreign origin is 1.5 times higher than that for people of French origin, after adjusting for educational qualifications.  An unemployment rate of 5% for French university graduates can be compared to the unemployment rate of 26.5% for university graduates of north African origin.  Exactly how would you blame Islam instead of the racist practices of the French government and French people for the failed integration of these immigrant communities to the bigger society in France?  Why do we choose to disregard the oppressive practices of the French government against Muslims in recent years, the killing of two Muslim youth which ignited the riots and Interior Minister Sarkozy's ridicilous statements(calling the protesters "scum") right before the riots reached their peak?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   These people are forced to lose their religion to be able to pursue France's false promise of "integration".  Why would a young Muslim women have to remove her hijab so she can go to a French university?  Why exactly should a brown/black skinned Muslim man should assimilate to the White Christian men's dream that is deemed the "European ideal", which doesn't even give him a job to feed his family?  How can the Muslim minority feel secure and trust "their" government while they have to go through ID checks constantly?  How are they expected to assimilate?  At what cost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   EU has to redefine the European Identity if it is to integrate any of her minorities.  Just education and employment won't solve this "problem".  What the majority thinks is not always right and Europe certainly has a good experience about that.  The European society has to admit their faults and bring this discussion to their mainstream if they are hoping for any kind of solution in the future.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-113263387854717559?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/113263387854717559/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=113263387854717559&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113263387854717559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113263387854717559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2005/11/promise-of-integration.html' title='The Promise of Integration'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-113121085057340132</id><published>2005-11-05T17:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.229-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How to justify a war</title><content type='html'>Bismillahirahmanirahim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what was I saying? In his recent lecture, Prof. Michael Oren argued that the Middle-East(yeah, right I will get to that in a bit.) played a significant role in the transformation of the 13 colonies to a united, federal State with a constitution. It is quite remarkable that someone would take such a revisionist approach. In his own words, Prof. Oren's sole motivation for this research was bridging the worlds that he lives in and belongs to. Knowing that he is a veteran for Israeli paratroopers in Lebanon War(meaning that he first-handedly took part in the genocide of around 2000 Muslims and forced migration of thousands more), I somehow doubt this peaceful purpose. A person who can kill innocent civilians in cold blood sure can lie in front of a crowd of around 100 people with a straight-face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I begin analyzing his whole argument, I want to point out that even writing a blog on such non-sense is an insult to all things Middle-eastern, my apologies. The locations of the Barbary pirate states (Morocco, Tunis, Algeria and Tripoli which is sort of equal to Modern Libya) that Mr. Oren talked about in his whole lecture are NOT in the Middle-East. Not by any stretch of imagination. Obviously having that many degrees (both undergraduate and graduate) Prof. Oren is not stupid, so this is quite an intentional "mistake". This whole rationality adds whole another degree(no pun intended) to his already suspicious argument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the beginning of his lecture, Mr. Oren pointed out that in the wake of 9/11 (I am getting the picture by now) the study of Middle-East transformed from a matter of academic curiousity to a matter of national survival. At this same point, his mention of Iran's recent nuclear program added so much more to his stance. By that time, my guess that this lecture was going to circle around the ever dreaded T-word was confirmed. The War-on-Terror rhetoric gets tiring fast, but hey at least Mr. Oren is bringing us a whole new approach. Let's look through the history, find out how evil Muslims are, prove that they have always been terrorists to justify the wars, the killing of innocent people, stealing of their country's natural resources to fill Cheney &amp; co.'s pockets, wiping their countries off the map in the name of regime change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So according to Mr. Oren these pirates were all Muslims and were considering themselves Mujahedeen and they were out on a mission to kill and enslave Americans (who they saw as Christians). Which makes them equals to the "terrorists" of today in Mr. Oren's eyes. The rationality is quite shaky. These people are pirates to begin with, to think that religion actually was taking a very important part of their daily life is quite to ridicilous to even consider. Most of these pirates were also renegades who were raised as Christians, but for several reasons escaped their country and recently converted to Islam under the protection of the Ottoman Empire. But yeah, their Christian upbringing and unlawful past in their home countries are of course not to blame for their actions. It is a recent phenomenon in US politics. When in doubt, blame Islam. This confused individual takes the easy path, too. Oren's direct comparison of the events doesn't stop here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Oren argues, while the European powers(mainly Britain and France in this case) were paying tribute and avoiding any confrontation, United States took a "revolutionary" step to fight the Barbary pirates. This is after spending up to 1 million dollars in tribute to Algiers for 15 years and after these payments in ransom and tribute reached 20% of the States's annual revenue of course. I would call this more like desperate rather than revolutionary. Mr. Oren added that even though US tried to gather an international coalition, no country from Europe was into the idea and France rejected outright(Oren's sarcastic tone on France inspired quite a few laughs in the room. Apparently being anti-French always wins you several political points in the US, it is the cool thing to do!). Back then surprisingly the US Congress had some sense, so they rejected the idea of unilateral action for "regime change" in Algeria, because it was against the non-interventionist principle which was deeply rooted in the country's political tradition at that point. This is around 1786. Apparently Thomas Jefferson (slave-owner) was really active for the interventionist cause at that time. I guess he couldn't stomach Africans(yeah Mr. Oren, NOT Middle-Easterners) enslaving white people. Can you imagine the poor guy's frustration?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course Mr. Oren's story ends up with American victory in the early 1800s with the Barbary Wars, which were "economically not worth it, but very important for American pride". If there is one parallel to be drawn to modern day, I guess this is really it. The amount of money that the Bush administration has spent in Iraq(217 billion dollars and still rising) could have been spent on various other fields including education, welfare and health care. Not to mention other ways the country could have benefited from the 2000+ young Americans who lost their lives serving on a mission to fill certain pockets with money. Unfortunately Mr. Oren, the people living in the Black and Latino ghettos today can't eat your self-imposed "American Pride". "American Pride" doesn't pay for their college education. You can't qualify governmental contracts to Cheney's Halliburton as "re-building effort" or "humanitarian relief" anymore. You can't qualify missionary activities as "free education". Mr. Oren and his fellow neo-cons are spending the money and resources that belong to the American, Iraqi and Afghani people to fill their own pockets. Mr. Oren is on a mission to justify the wars and legitimize them by providing a false historical context. How long will it take for the people of America to realize what is happening and stand against it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assalamu-alaikum wa rahmatuAllah wa barakatu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-113121085057340132?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/113121085057340132/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=113121085057340132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113121085057340132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113121085057340132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2005/11/how-to-justify-war.html' title='How to justify a war'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18616254.post-113104662819819752</id><published>2005-11-03T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:04:17.139-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes...</title><content type='html'>I have a blog now.  Eid Mubarak to all my Brothers and Sisters, may Allah reward all for fasting and good deeds in Ramadan insh'Allah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First posting coming shortly (in the wake of his guest lecture) Michael Oren's revisionist approach to US History, possible intentions behind the approach and what the consequences of such revision might be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                            V.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18616254-113104662819819752?l=v47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/feeds/113104662819819752/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18616254&amp;postID=113104662819819752&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113104662819819752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18616254/posts/default/113104662819819752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://v47.blogspot.com/2005/11/yes.html' title='Yes...'/><author><name>V-47</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14503531791051420907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v707/markII/73b73942.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
