Hassan Safdari is an Iranian poet and a very good friend of mine. Cappadocia is a series of 14 connected poems which depict the poet's reflection on the historical Cappadocia in Turkey. There is more than a mere tourist look in this series of poems. The poet starts with the description of a love in an ancient cave and proceeds to look at the history and mythology and thus connects with the spirit of the past and the ancient people. I personally liked this poem. The English translation by Alireza Abiz was first published in ART Monthly in Mashhad, Iran.
1
In each others' arms
We spend a night in the Cave
Surrounded by ethereal gray walls
Listening to the celestial song of a goldfinch
who flies her voice in the sacred halls like a cross
2
When the dark falls
We return to our ancestors
And measure the density of hearts
That never beat outside the sanctuary of silence
You come from the abyss of the untold
And your dream does not live in me
3
Embrace the inversed city slept on the happy soil!
Your ancestor is a lark
Come and plant a forest
On this wasteland you are treading on now!
4
Statues that came out of the earth
Are saying their prayers of horror
Toward the Kiblah of life
Twenty three other hours is left
To the earthquake in Zelve
The Kurd girl of Foreme
Is packing up her peddling job
How beautiful is
Sleeping in the earthquake nights!
5
Here, the names are blowing in the wind
Wine is dripping from the grapevine
Dancing and whirling sun
Suddenly stops in the middle of Inhlara valley
-Worried about you-
Wakes up your startled hands
It is at this moment that the Saints
Play their instruments in your mouth from faraway
As "water which speaks nonstop
Without repeating a single word"
6
Ah… Cappadocia!
The land of slaughtered dynasties
Where the song of Jesus
Is petrified in the heart of rocks
Whose fingerprints are still visible
On the jar of wine
In the Serpents Church?
How did spearmint and sweet basil
Drank themselves
And got drowned in themselves?
In this vast universe
No one reaches the waterfall by himself.
7
The orange trees
Are lost in the density of Seata
A book of silk
On the entrance of the cave
The soothsayer sits to soothsaying
With an alligator face
She drowns in her past so deep
That we believe her human brilliance
Windblown dusts of gold
Are left on Cappadocia shrubs
Here, the virgins dance on the skull of saints
In the gypsy night
Who is able to see and forget?
8
In the dark church of Karanlik
In my mother's womb
I remembered my name
Like a child who has a shell in his hand
And doesn't know the name of his pearl
Suddenly I remember
My name is Death!
9
At this very moment
When the sour cherry flowers
Are tottering in the peaceful night
And unknown illusions can be heard
From the dry boughs
The sound of wavy ivories
In the bright ponds
It is the Death who is calling me by name
10
Now I have many names
For the heavens
From above Ihlara Valley
Wherein the roaring river
Twists like a nude woman
And the owl who is hanging
From the Cave pinnacle
Like an amber star
11
I won't recall night
The night who has killed her sun
I tasted the light nowhere
But in a dark shell
Ah… Cappadocia!
The shadow of these nights
Is constantly dancing in my silence
12
The azure voice of the girl
Left alone amidst the day
Was springing from the kiwi gardens of Neveshir
Kaymakli, the city talking of rocks
The weighty rocks of circle interlock
So that the legend may sprinkle pearl
From the mouth of the shell
13
In "Helen & Son" tavern
-Neighbor to Yilanli Church-
I put down the last glass
With a poem by "Fodhuli"
14
In Karanlik tavern
A broken loaf of bread grows
Cappadocia
Covers face in a heavy fog
2
When the dark falls
We return to our ancestors
And measure the density of hearts
That never beat outside the sanctuary of silence
You come from the abyss of the untold
And your dream does not live in me
3
Embrace the inversed city slept on the happy soil!
Your ancestor is a lark
Come and plant a forest
On this wasteland you are treading on now!
4
Statues that came out of the earth
Are saying their prayers of horror
Toward the Kiblah of life
Twenty three other hours is left
To the earthquake in Zelve
The Kurd girl of Foreme
Is packing up her peddling job
How beautiful is
Sleeping in the earthquake nights!
5
Here, the names are blowing in the wind
Wine is dripping from the grapevine
Dancing and whirling sun
Suddenly stops in the middle of Inhlara valley
-Worried about you-
Wakes up your startled hands
It is at this moment that the Saints
Play their instruments in your mouth from faraway
As "water which speaks nonstop
Without repeating a single word"
6
Ah… Cappadocia!
The land of slaughtered dynasties
Where the song of Jesus
Is petrified in the heart of rocks
Whose fingerprints are still visible
On the jar of wine
In the Serpents Church?
How did spearmint and sweet basil
Drank themselves
And got drowned in themselves?
In this vast universe
No one reaches the waterfall by himself.
7
The orange trees
Are lost in the density of Seata
A book of silk
On the entrance of the cave
The soothsayer sits to soothsaying
With an alligator face
She drowns in her past so deep
That we believe her human brilliance
Windblown dusts of gold
Are left on Cappadocia shrubs
Here, the virgins dance on the skull of saints
In the gypsy night
Who is able to see and forget?
8
In the dark church of Karanlik
In my mother's womb
I remembered my name
Like a child who has a shell in his hand
And doesn't know the name of his pearl
Suddenly I remember
My name is Death!
9
At this very moment
When the sour cherry flowers
Are tottering in the peaceful night
And unknown illusions can be heard
From the dry boughs
The sound of wavy ivories
In the bright ponds
It is the Death who is calling me by name
10
Now I have many names
For the heavens
From above Ihlara Valley
Wherein the roaring river
Twists like a nude woman
And the owl who is hanging
From the Cave pinnacle
Like an amber star
11
I won't recall night
The night who has killed her sun
I tasted the light nowhere
But in a dark shell
Ah… Cappadocia!
The shadow of these nights
Is constantly dancing in my silence
12
The azure voice of the girl
Left alone amidst the day
Was springing from the kiwi gardens of Neveshir
Kaymakli, the city talking of rocks
The weighty rocks of circle interlock
So that the legend may sprinkle pearl
From the mouth of the shell
13
In "Helen & Son" tavern
-Neighbor to Yilanli Church-
I put down the last glass
With a poem by "Fodhuli"
14
In Karanlik tavern
A broken loaf of bread grows
Cappadocia
Covers face in a heavy fog
