World Poetry Day is on March 21, and was declared by UNESCO (the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) in 1999. The purpose of the day is to promote the reading, writing, publishing and teaching of poetry throughout the world and, as the UNESCO session declaring the day says, to 'give fresh recognition and impetus to national, regional and international poetry movements.'

UNESCO World Poetry Directory is a website created and hosted by UNESCO following the proclamation of World Poetry Day.

This website brings lists of festivals, prizes, journals, and associations of the world of poetry. It also provides links with major web sites, presenting poetry activities in UNESCO Member States, Associated Members and Non-member States.

Turkish poetry is represented by Contemporary Turkish Literature Website

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Wishing all poetry lovers and all Turkish Class members

A Happy World Poetry Day!

I'm using the opportunity to thank administration for their understanding and changing Cultural Forums back to their old style.

In the same time, I call all members to contribute in making this forums a place for sharing our love for art, practicing language at the best possible way – through poetry and literature, improving our knowledge about Turkish and world culture – a pleasant place for enjoying company of people with the same affinities and the same interests.

thank you very much for informing and sharing this with us.

Thank You, Slavica!!!!

My congratulations to You too

Love,
Mella

Hello again.

May be too late, but here is my poetry, for "World Poetry Day":

TO KISS YOUR LIPS

Put on your beautiful clothes;
the day of happiness has arrived;
comb the tangles from your hair;
put on your most attractive clothes
and your splendid leather;
hang great pendants in your ears;
put on a good belt; string garlands
around your shapely throat;
put shining coils on your plump upper arms.

Glorious you will be seen,
for none is more beautiful here
in this town, the seat of Dzitbalché.

I love you, Beautiful Lady.
I want you to be seen; in
truth you are very alluring,

I compare you to the stars
because they desire you up to the moon
and in the flowers of the fields.

Pure and white are your clothes, maiden.
Go give happiness with your laugh,
put goodness in your heart, because today
is the moment of happiness.

I hope like you this mayan poetry, written by Ah Bam.

Mary T.

SELAM BENÝM ARKADAÞLAR!!

Where are the poetry? Come on, each one send a poem from his country, ok?

Since USA (where i'm living now) :

Your eyes are like the light of my world,
they warm me up, when I am in the cold,
Gentle as the ocean waving softly,
making my mind all lofty,
As your face I could never forget,
If I could talk to God, I would say I am in His dept,
to send such a angel down to my lonely door step,
How undeserving am I?
For something that should be free to fly?
You smile so beautiful to me eveso dearest,
As when I kiss you does my head feel dreariest,
My mind is in a haze,
your touch could would send me dazed,
How I love you so,
But as everything so beautiful, had to go...
So fly to the sky,
that heavenly place where I have met Thy.

Tessekur ederim!!

Great idea, Mustafa
(Can you just, please, mention the name of author of the poem?)
Come on, friends! Post here poems by authors from your country!
Here is my contibution – a poem of Serbian poetess Desanka Maksimovic.

SPRING POEM

While watching all these early buds and swallows,
I can feel tonight
that my heart’s slowly growing over sorrows
as someone’s horizon on smiley days might;

That it’s getting bigger like all plants around
and as light as feather,
and that all happiness that’s above the ground
and a Hell of pain wouldn’t really matter:

It’s longing for all things that a life as such
could give nice to thy,
and completely nothing wouldn’t be too much--
it’s eager desire and hopes are so high.

Everything that’s happened has been just a play
of my heart on fire;
my true love has never been given away
as much as I could and as I desire;

There are, in my deeps, gentle tides of words
never let outside;
I could give my heart to everyone on worlds,
yet, it would remain a lot of it inside.

Desanka Maksimovic
Translation: Dragana Konstantinovic

Romanian poet : 1. LUCIAN BLAGA


A road to light
dedicated to my child to come

I struggle to walk
Through a forest of dreams
To find the right path
That will take me out into light.

I try many paths
Most times the easy and flat
The large and walked on;
Other times I dare to go up.

I take the courage for I think on the top
There will be light, there will be freedom
And the air that is pure there
Will refill my energy stores.

I take another step, after another
I stumble and rise, I continue my journey
With every step the light gets closer,
I long for it and I learn to enjoy the ride.

So thank you my star
My little star shinning with hope
I found you in the oldest dream
And you are here lighting the way to the future.

The future is you my little star
you will transform to my sun
I will warm up my soul
At your flame
When I will grow old, and tired
I know you will be again my source of energy.
I will search for you, wait for you to appear on my way
And I will love you above all.


2. Marin Sorescu
I have seen light

I have seen light on earth
And I decided to be born
To see how you are doing.
Healthy? Strong?
Still happy?
Thanks, don't answer me!
I don't have time for answers,
I barely have some time to ask,
But I like this place
It's warm and beautiful;
There's so much light that
Grass is growing;
And over there that girl
Looks at me with her soul
No dear, don't bother to love me;
I would drink a coffee though,
I'd like to drink it from your hands
Cause you know how to make it
Bitter.

How Beautiful, Mara - lovely poem

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

Alfred Tennyson - 1850


dis is for istanbulians no... for Türkiye

hey,,,this is my latest poem

its title ( yusuf and turkisclass love)


turkishclass is like a tree
under its shadow who will lie with me

turkishclass is the best site
i will be here all day and night

come here , come here you will see
no enemys
no vilont
love , u will see

come here come here u will see
all people are first degree
except lettle not to be
come here come here u will see

in a whisper to admin i will say
i will be here allover the day.

writen by
yusuf


this poem is a lettle expresition to what inside me for that site.
i hope all firends here find it good

waiting all friends opions.......

I would like to introduce to you one of my favourite Dutch poets, Ida Gerhardt. The translations are not too strict and not too good i guess But i hope you can at least understand it a bit and i hope you'll like it.


The one that passed away

To go around the earth for seven times,
if necessary on hands and feet;
seven times, to greet thát one (kinda like in bir tanem)
who would be waiting with a smile.
To go around the earth for seven times.

To go over the seas for seven times,
threadbare clothes, as if I would even care,
could I bring back that one from death.
To go over the seas for seven times,
Seven times, to stand as two together

Zeven maal om de aarde te gaan,
als het zou moeten op handen en voeten;
zeven maal, om die éne te groeten
die daar lachend te wachten zou staan.
Zeven maal om de aarde te gaan.

Zeven maal over de zeeën te gaan,
schraal in de kleren, wat zou het mij deren,
kon uit de dood ik die éne doen keren.
Zeven maal over de zeeën te gaan –
zeven maal, om met zijn tweeën te staan.

----

I'll have dinner now and then try to translate one poem she wrote during Second World War, it is my favourite, together with the one above.

Here's a Polish contribution (i'm not going to recommend our most famous Nobel winner Szymborska, whose poem you can find on TC poetry) but an author whose style I just love - Urszula Kozioł:

From a journey

In the labyrinth
where at every turn a woman
wields a ball of thread
trying to tempt
with a fresh color

I bought
a needle, a thimble, some wool to try.
I wind it off.
Will there be enough
to darn a hole on a hero's heel
enough to twist round my finger
enough to . . .

No, not enough.

So here I am amongst you
in the labyrinth
where all threads are too short, except
threads spun by Alpha, except
threads spun by Beta, except
threads spun by threads
which are now in short supply.
I wind it off.
Is there enough for just one stitch
to prove I was led this way.

No, not enough.

So here I am
in the labyrinth
where another Ariadne holds out her ball
or something like her ball, or
something instead
Perhaps that instead
can help with this instead

No, not enough.

So here I am amongst you
in the labyrinth
And this wall is not a wall
but a wall of a wall
And this path is not a path
but a path of a path
And this sign scratched on brick
is a sign to nowhere
just a sign of a sign

how it stinks here
of sweaty waiting and real sweat
how shuffling feet
echo and re-echo in this place

now let us hold hands
let us hold on tight
let us stretch out and look
round the same old corner
round
another one, a bit further
round
the one that is next

nothing to be afraid of
and besides
there is no other labyrinth within
this labyrinth

nothing to be afraid of
and besides
all that is in the other place, not here,
all this is in the other place, there

And this comes from Greece. For those who are still searching for their Ithaca

Ithaca
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithaca means.

Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)

I Wish
© By Chelsea A. Lemieszek

I wish I could paint the sky green
I wish I could paint the ground blue
I wish I could make an ice sculpture
I wish I had a sculpture of you
I wish you were still there for me
I wish I could feel your touch
I wish that my life was easy and love was just enough
I wish I knew how to talk to you
I wish I knew where you were
I wish that maybe you'd call me and tell me this separation is absurd
I wish I knew what your feelings were
I wish I knew what you thought
I wish that you could hold me the way you did when you loved me
I wish I had your heart
I wish you hadn't crushed mine
I wish you were near me so I could look into your eyes
I wish I could paint the sky green
I wish I could paint the ground blue
But really, I wish you would love me the way that I love you.



in fact i hate this word ''i wish'' but i like dis poem much...hope u too like

Falling Leaves

By Jessica R. Roth

walking the straight path
the air crisp and fresh
with trees of red, gold, and brown
I feel beautiful just being here
a leaf will occasionally fall
and if I am lucky, I’ll catch it
close my eyes and brush it against my red cheek
the winds may send a gust
and the leaf will go free from my fingers
I’ll turn to watch it sail, only in envy
through the air with other leaves
in circles as they dance
teasing the other leaves
because they are attached and cannot dance
looking at the leaves attached to their trees
I’ll understand them
wanting to be free from the world that protects me
wanting to dance and sail through the air
walking the straight path
the air crisp and fresh
with trees of red, gold, and brown
I feel so beautiful just standing there
a leaf falls, and I try to catch it
the leaf falls short of my stretched hand
and I watch it fall to the ground
with the other leaves unfortunate enough
to not have someone to catch them
and save them from the cold ground
I look up at the other leaves still attached to their trees
I understand them
happy to have something to hold on to
happy to have somewhere to belong
I continue down the straight path
and like a leaf, I silently wonder
if I do fall, will I have someone to catch me?

Ismail Kadare an albanian poet and writer.

"And when my memory"

And when my fading memory,
Like the after-midnight trams,
Stops only at the main stations,
I will not forget you.

I will remember
That quiet evening, endless in your eyes,
The stifled sob upon my shoulder,
Like snow that cannot be brushed off.

The separation came
And I departed, far from you.
Nothing unusual,
But some night
Someone's fingers will weave themselves into your hair,
My distant fingers, stretching across the miles.

[Edhe kur kujtesa, from the volume Shekulli im, Tirana: Naim Frashëri 1961, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie, and first published in English in An elusive eagle soars, anthology of modern Albanian poetry, London: Forest Books 1993, p. 78]

Lasgush Poradeci a famous and romantic albanian poet.

"Morning"

Like a spirit sombre within the breast
Lies the lake encased in hills.
Mirrored in its depths,
Night expires breath by breath.

I watch how she suffers, how she dies,
Her eyes blinking,
Azure-circled pools,
Like the stars of a fading sky.

But now the light of dawn
Shimmers deep within the lake.
The daystar steals away, melting
Like a piece of sugar candy.

Behold, day has dawned,
And lightning flashes from the depths.
Like a harbinger of morn
Appears, bird-white, a pelican.

[Mëngjes, from the volume Vdekja e nositit, Prishtina: Rilindja 1986, p. 81, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie, and first published in English in An elusive eagle soars, anthology of modern Albanian poetry, London: Forest Books 1993, p. 3]