God of Nameless Mountains
*İsimsiz Dağların Tanrısı, translation of my own poem.
An exile in the mountains from Kurai plains
His hands are weaving the sky in a tenter
Bookless is he — knows how to read the mountains
On the gentle slopes when the moon does glitter
He is the one who sends the stars to my sleep
His eyes cascade down from the spring of my dreams
The tips of his eyelashes slowly do seep
To my horizon and braid the rainbow beams
In the orphanage of these mountains unnamed
An Avşar untitled acts as foster God
Moss in his whiskers, resin in hair, untamed
Forest in his tow, he herds hills with his rod
Alas! He does not boast a cloud of his own*
He is a gift for derelict clouds instead
In the shade of each cloud — lest it feel alone
He raises a linden tree as he does tread
Nor does he have a seal on his back from birth**
Yet you will know him by his sunburned dark face
He hauls the Milkyway in his cart on Earth
His whistle summons distances to his place
Seers will not herald his humble arrival
But junipers, partridges, wild mints will do
He only, listens to the spring’s reproval
And his breath is what shivers the woodland through
Pulling his cart in the darkness of the night
He is the one who paves the highland trails
Each flower is a bead of his sweat alight
His dawning song every morning the sun hails
Neither prayers nor offerings he demands
As long as you hew not his precious poplar
Just do not disturb the hawk’s nest with your hands
The white tiara of the peaks - do not mar
With his lambs and wolves in his bosom, always
In his shrine forever will he stand vigil
In these nameless mountains an enduring blaze
As long as you sing his songs of yore, he will.
M. Bahadırhan Dinçaslan
*Prophet Muhammad is believed to have a cloud of his own to shade him in the desert.
**He is also believed to be born with a “seal” on his body proving his divinity.
