We present this work in honor of the 85th anniversary of the poet’s death.
The boat was rolling over in an ocean… The dream threw me on the shores of Marmara! I saw from only a couple of miles away your blackened Istanbul clear as crystal, Its forehead shining like a crescent: She’s laughing; coquettish, charming and attractive.
What base destitution now, alas! What arrogance, what ostentation! Many schools are opened, men and women study; factories are in full steam, textile industries progress. Printing houses work day and night. New companies emerge for the benefit of the people, New parties arise to enlighten the people,
Economy prospers And ships unload wealth from length to length of her shores.
Your mother is a cause for wonder: the Lord entered her and became a servant; He who is the Word entered —and became silent within her; thunder entered her —and made no sound; there entered the Shepherd of all, and in her he became the Lamb, bleating as he came forth. Your mother’s womb has reversed the roles: the Establisher of all entered in His richness, but came forth poor; the Exalted One entered her, but came forth meek; the Splendrous One entered her, but came forth having put on a lowly hue. The Mighty One entered, and put on insecurity from her womb; the Provisioner of all entered —and experienced hunger; He who gives drink to all entered —and experienced thirst: naked and stripped there came forth from her He who clothes all.
To Him who is feared a Crown will I bring. Thrice Holy each day acclaim Him my King; At altars, ye mighty, proclaim loud His praise, And multitudes too may whisper His lays. Ye angels, ye men, whose good deeds He records— Sing, He is One, His is good, our yoke is the Lord’s! Praise Him trembling to-day, His mercy is wide— Ye who fear for His wrath—it doth not abide! Ye seraphim, high above storm clouds may sing; Men and angels make music, th’ All-seeing is king. As ye open your lips, at His Name they shall cease— Transgression and sin—in their place shall be peace; And thrice shall the Shophar re-echo your song On mountain and altar to whom both belong.