“It is told everywhere that the summer is over,” says Ülkü Tamer in his poem “Summer is Over”. Summer is over; poetry is not over!
This might sound a bit like a bumper sticker, but who can suggest that bumper stickers are not poetry? Would I ever suggest such a thing? “Life might come to an end but not the road.” No matter where, when, by whom and why was it said; it is a good saying. Therefore, it means that poetry is a road; the road is a poem; both of them can be said to be endless. Moreover, I already said it!
There is of course fall, and leaves, fall colors in the saying of summer is over. There is also, of course, the “foolish street sweepers” that the song says “who swept my love” but we do not say it like that; we say “I am not saying, you fool/ I am saying open your eyes and see me!” as Hasan Hüseyin Korkmazgil says it. Then we realize that we dive into the article without greetings in the morning, without support, and we condemn ourselves and say “may it be good!”
“May it be good” for the universe, nature, human, zoo, vegetation, all creatures! It should be understood that we say “Good morning, the wind that shakes the apricot tree / Good morning, survivor, who is reborn” like Gülten Akın says in the poem “I cut my Dark Hair”. Also, it should be understood that we did not forget Paul Eluard’s “Liberty” translated by Melih Cevdet Anday and Orhan Veli Kanık, and adding “Hey freedom!” to it by Zülfü Livaneli, who makes the call even more impressive by adding it, right? “Your name, I write in my notebook / my chair at school / On trees /… / On pages / clean and white…”
May it be good is taken from the solar alphabet. Who knows which sun, the sun is already a translation of may it be good to nature. The sun calls the cloud, water to the morning, the garden to home, the street to city ‘may it be good’. May it be good is a sun saying, a salute of nature. It is the reunion of the fish jumping in the bucket with the sea. The spinning of fishing rods, the breathing of the waters, the fish letting themselves be children again like new dolphins.
May it be good is children’s language, the candy apple or rooster of childhood… It is the childhood existing in the language, eyes, heart, and smile. May it be good is the meeting of the world with purity, cleanliness, goodness every time it is said. It is the way of children, music, spring, the sun, and the road. The pride of the beautiful coincidences alphabet. Beautiful passenger, may all be good!
May all be good, the day, friendship, love! Sometimes rain, sometimes snow, and sometimes fall. Sometimes breathless… Sometimes 4 brothers hold hands and go to the Sıcaksular on Sundays of Eskişehir and on their way back they buy pickle juice from the peddler Uncle Mehmet, Aunt Teşife’s husband, and drink brotherhood and growing up together… Sometimes running to a tree like it is a childhood friend and hug it and together paint the sky blue and shed the leaves of joy instead of tears… Is life called sometimes?
“Life is sweet sometimes/ Lovers have wings.” We have songs sang by birds, so beautiful… We have far distances where the cranes fly… We have highlands, we have loved ones whose greetings come from their hearts. Do we know them all? Yes, we do. How? From a smile, look, walk… We say: may it all be good! May it all be good neighbor, friend, brother…
We don’t say it to those who are vindictive, haters, hunters, who instill fear…