Heloise
Original by Lâle Müldür
Translated, from the Turkish, by Doğa Ayar
when a maiming pain, or to put it another way,
when the memories of a Saxon prince, another day,
was felt in an unbearable manner,
suddenly a wind arose. another dimension appeared,
with cries of gulls and a shadow moving through forest fogs’
it was snowing in Cathay.
white butterflies were scattering in the wind.
as if lost within an endless dream, Heloise was sleeping
beneath the snow.
on strange misted mornings like on opal winter nights
Heloise walked in violet air. above the northern sea
a wreath woven of irises…
ice: through forest fogs the shadow wanders…
on strange misted mornings like on opal winter nights
Heloise walked along frost stricken
voices of children. ugly as porcelain
despite years that would not pass.
the year did not pass it seemed…
Heloise showed her crystal hands.
on strange misted mornings like opal winter nights
Heloise walked along frost stricken
voices of children. above the northern sea,
a black satin sun. for the gods who would return
for whom lost children forever weep…
on strange misted mornings like opal winter nights
Heloise walked the same places at the same hours.
above the northern sea, a beeswax sun.
for a white stone engraved with a name no one knew…
she withdrew into herself with magenta swan madrigals.
in a chamber lit by Art Nouveau night-lamps.
she wore a nightgown of liquid pearls.
split into fragments, she passed in front of a mirrored screen.
the northern wind swept the tulles inward.
in the center of the room among white lilies, belladonnas,
laurels, a marble woman was lying.
the breaking points at the neck and the waist
had parted her into three. children’s sugarcane
songs were heard in the distant night.
she removed her gown and laid herself down on the brass bed.
still as a water-lily…Heloise…
when a light beaming from her violet eyes
bound her to her past,
the room was soldered with seven sapphire sigils.
a day…in a sea of moss…in the Sargasso Sea…
a woman releases herself into the waters…among purplegreen algae,
sea-urchins, stone sarcophagi, she is buried…
a subsurface current…time passing by like a lizard…
bearing a crimson letter in her oar-bone, Heloise…
an inland sea is crossed… ending, draws near like a sea tulip,
resurfaces with a steel helmet upon her head…
extends petrol green hands puts on the signet ring…
several kinds of leaden and brown butterflies pass…
*****
HELOİSE
sakatlayan bir acıyı, başka türlü söylemek gerekirse,
bir Sakson prensinin anılarını, yeniden bir gün,
tahammül edilmez bir şekilde hissederken,
birden rüzgâr çıktı. başka bir boyut martı sesleri
ve orman sislerinde gezinen bir karaltı ile belirdi.
Cathay’a kar yağıyordu.
beyaz kelebekler savruluyordu rüzgârda.
sonsuz bir düşte kaybolmuş gibi, uyuyordu Heloise,
karın altında.
opal kış gecelerindeki gibi tuhaf sis sabahları
Heloise mor havada yürüdü. kuzey denizinin
üstünde irislerle örülmüş bir çelenk…
buz: orman sislerinde geziniyor karaltı…
opal kış gecelerindeki gibi tuhaf sis sabahları
Heloise kırağı düşmüş çocuk sesleri
boyunca yürüdü. porselen kadar çirkin
geçmeyen yıllara rağmen.
yıl demek ki geçmiyordu…
Heloise kristal ellerini gösterdi.
opal kış gecelerindeki gibi tuhaf sis sabahları
Heloise kırağı düşmüş çocuk sesleri
boyunca yürüdü. kuzey denizinin üstünde
siyah saten bir güneş. kaybolan çocukların
her zaman ağladığı o geri gelecek tanrılar için…
opal kış gecelerindeki gibi tuhaf sis sabahları
Heloise aynı yerlerde aynı saatlerde yürüdü.
kuzey denizinin üstünde balmumu bir güneş.
kimsenin bilmediği bir isim yazılı beyaz bir taş için…
magenta kuğu madrigalleriyle kapandı kendine.
art nouvau gece lambalarının aydınlattığı bir odada.
likit incilerden yapılmış bir gecelik giydi.
bölünerek aynalı paravanın önünden geçti.
kuzey rüzgârı tülleri içeri savurdu.
odanın ortasında beyaz zambakların, belladonaların,
defnelerin arasında mermer bir kadın yatıyordu.
boynundan ve belinden geçen kopuş noktaları
onu üçe ayırmıştı. çocukların şekerkamışı
şarkıları duyuluyordu uzak gecede.
geceliğini çıkarıp pirinç yatağa uzandı.
bir su zambağı kadar kımıltısız… Heloise…
mor gözlerinden çıkan bir ışık
onu geçmişine bağladığında,
oda yedi safir mühürle lehimlendi.
bir gün… bir yosun denizinde… Saragossa denizinde…
bir kadın suya bırakır kendini… moryeşil algların,
deniz kestanelerinin, taş lahitlerin arasına gömülür…
bir su altı akıntısı… kertenkele gibi ilerleyen zaman…
kürek kemiğinde kızıl bir harf taşıyan Heloise…
bir iç denizi geçer… son, bir deniz lalesi gibi yaklaşır…
başında çelik bir miğferle su yüzüne çıkar…
petrol yeşili ellerini uzatır mühür yüzüğünü takar…
birkaç çeşit kurşuni ve kahverengi kelebek geçer…
Lâle Müldür was born in Aydın in 1956. Her first poem, “Kadın Portreleri”, was published in “Yeni İnsan” in 1980. Her poems, essays, and translations have appeared in literary journals, and after 1999, she contributed regularly to “Radikal İki”. Müldür is recognized as one of the most distinctive poets of the 1980 generation in Turkish poetry. Her work is characterized by semantic innovation, dense imagery, and engagement with metaphysical and intertextual themes. Her work has circulated internationally through translations, anthologies, and publications abroad. Her book “Ultra-Zone’da Ultrason” won the 2007 Altın Portakal Poetry Prize, and she received the 2019 Antalya Literature Days Honorary Award. Müldür is recognized as one of the most distinctive poets of her generation in Turkish poetry and resides in İstanbul.
From Istanbul, Doğa Ayar translates between Turkish and English. She studied Philosophy and French at Reed College. She is currently pursuing an MFA in Literary Translation at the University of Iowa. Her translation practice is informed by perception’s role in observation and shaping memory. She is currently working on a poetry collection by Lale Müldür, one of the first postmodern poets of Turkish literature. Her work is particularly involved with voice, memory, and displacement.
Translator’s Note: “Heloise” immediately employs lyrical personification by echoing Abelard–Héloïse, making it elegiac and mythical-biographical. It is episodic, moving from snow to the refrain, to the interior chamber with mirrors and the marble, and finally to a submersion with the sea and the underwater drift. I tried to maintain the cyclical time here. I especially like the dominance of hollow vowels in the Turkish, but the contrast of sonics is doing more work in the English. The Turkish has a participial density that makes the poem sound visionary and expansive.”