In the deepest depths, half sky, three thousand gates of screams!
In the deepest depths, you are, throughout the night…
A suspicious signal, they’ll call it
Or a coded aria!
Unburden yourself dear friend, unburden,
Do not make a falsehood of sca-la-re!
They may call it a season, but a season in blue is endless summer …
To describe a leaf, a thousand poems do not suffice.
There are words that don’t fit into simple language, dictionaries!
Form for spirit, soul for matter, sca-la-re!
A ray of sun turned consciousness into confusion;
Two pearls shed their mother of pearl shells.
To all, from seven to seventy, the creator has given joy,
A joyous yearning, a thrill, sca-la-re!
A new start everyday as someone’s time comes to an end…
Are there others who suffer so much from homesickness?
All roads go through this stop as evenings come;
An inn for every heartsick traveller, sca-la-re!
A glass palace, built on the creator’s ground.
Built by a kindly hand!
From its gate of wishes, no one leaves empty-handed,
Peace to friends, sca-la-re!
Love is enough for my heart, a gentle smile.
The book, for years, was left half-finished, the final part undelivered.
Always like this, my heart longs day and night;
A blue smoke that envelops all, sca-la-re…
Outwardly, this garden of life is barren land,
Approach it with understanding and each leaf is a heaven.
Come dear friend, gather up, all that is around you!
When all fruits ripen, it is then, sca-la-re.
Bekir Sıtkı Erdoğan (1926-2014). Ska-lar-ya. Translated from the Turkish.