Barbaros İrdelmen, Poem
Moderator 
BARBAROS İRDELMEN - TURKEY
Dr. Barbaros İrdelmen is a Turkish poet, writer, translator, and retired physician. He is the author of nineteen poetry collections, with works published in numerous national and international anthologies, literary journals, and poetry festivals. A member of the Turkish Writers’ Syndicate, he translates world poetry from English into Turkish and contributes to the Turkish edition of Poetry Without Borders. He is also affiliated with the poetry translators’ community of the ITHACA Foundation (Spain), promoting literary dialogue across cultures through poetry and translation.
MY BELOVED
Some people
enter our lives late;
yet somehow,
every road
leads to them.
That's how it is with you.
Since the day I first saw you,
a quiet path
has been opening within me,
always leading to you.
On the days I cannot see you,
something is missing.
The hours rush by,
while time itself stands still.
From afar,
I gaze into your colorful eyes.
A single glance from you
opens a window
that has long waited
in the darkness within me.
When you smile,
the weight of the day
slips gently from my shoulders.
If you came to me
and quietly wrapped your arms around my waist,
my heart
would finally find
the home
it has long been searching for.
Ah, my beloved...
If your fingers wandered through my hair,
if your head rested upon my shoulder,
if you whispered my name into my ear...
In your love,
I would find myself.
MAN AND HOPE
No one
has yet seen
a human being
lose hope.
Though
they have never found
what they were searching for,
they still believe
it must be waiting
somewhere.
They spend a lifetime
following
their wayward fate;
they grow weary,
yet never give up.
From cave to palace...
Wherever they sleep,
every morning
they may awaken
on the same rocky ground,
in the same swamp-
still,
they open
their eyes
to the sun.
Troubles
never lose
their way
to their door.
When night falls,
on a poor bed,
they build
radiant paradises.
By morning,
their hands
are muddy again.
Yet
within their palms
they carry,
however small,
a fragment
of the sky.
A human being
may lose
bread,
health,
and loved ones.
Hope
is the last thing
to be lost.
Perhaps
that alone
is what
makes us human.
LOVE
It cannot be told
by drowning someone in false words,
by smothering them in gifts,
by laying red carpets along their path.
Never with splendor-
love is not wrapped in shining paper.
To love
is to sit at the edge of the soul,
without a rope of safety,
with a lamp that gives no light,
and descend into a mysterious well.
To love
is to wander fearlessly
through the hidden chambers of faces
where fragile dawns tremble.
In that dark silence,
to hear what is left unsaid,
to see what mirrors do not reflect,
to become the sun that enlightens hearts
with sincere glances mistaken for faintness.
Even if centuries pass,
though fragile and trembling,
it is the majestic mountain
whose name never changes,
the one you always seek refuge in-
to love.
(Prepared by Angela Kosta)
