In the first part of the Literary Centrifuge's new column Meeting, you can read Müesser Yeniay turkish poetess' beautiful poems.
Müesser’s writings are so sensitive, tender and delicate. Airy voice, special metaphores. Incited in me the desire for the endless sandhills, the gentle breeze and the ethernity, while I also felt the sadness of the loneliness.

MÜESSER YENİAY was born in İzmir, 1984; graduated from Ege University, with a degree in English Language and Literature. She has won several prizes in Turkey including Yunus Emre (2006), Homeros Attila İlhan (2007), Ali Riza Ertan (2009), Enver Gökçe (2013) poetry prizes.
Her first book Dibine Düşüyor Karanlık da (Darkness Falls Down It's Bottom) was published in 2009 and her second book Evimi Dağlara Kurdum (I Have Founded My House in Mountains) is a collection of translation from world poetry. Her latest book Yeniden Çizdim Göğü (I Drew the Sky Again) was published in 2011. She has translated the poems of Persian poet Behruz Kia under the name of Lalelere Requiem (Requiem for Tulips). She has translated Selected Poems of Gerard Augustin together with Eray Canberk, Başak Aydınalp, Metin Cengiz (2011). She has also translated Personal Anthology of Michel Cassir together with Eray Canberk and Metin Cengiz (2011). Lately, she has published Contemporary Spanish Anthology with Metin Cengiz and Jaime B. Rosa. She has also published a book on modern Turkish Avant-garde poetry The Other Consciousness: Surrealism and The Second New (2013).

Her poems have appeared in the following magazines abroad: The Voices Project, The Bakery, Sentinel Poetry, Yellow Medicine Review, Shot Glass Journal, Poesy, Shampoo, Los Angeles Review of Books, Mediterranean Poetry (USA&England); Kritya (India); Casa Della Poesia, Libere Luci (Italy); Poeticanet, Poiein (Greece); Revue Ayna, L'oiseau de feu du Garlaban (France); Al Doha (Qatar); Tema (Croatia).
Her poems have been translated into English, French, Serbian, Arabic, Hebrew, Italian, Greek, Hindi, Spanish and Romanian. She participated in the poetry festivals like Sarajevo International Poetry Festival, September 2010 (Bosnia-Herzegovina); Nisan International Poetry Festival, May 2011 (Israel); Belgrad International Poetry Festival, September 2012 (Serbia); Voix Vives International Poetry Festival (Sete), July 2013 (France); Kritya International Poetry Festival, September 2013 (India).
Müesser is the editor of the literature magazine Şiirden (of Poetry). She is currently pursuing a Phd in Turkish literature at Bilkent University, Ankara, and is also a member of PEN and the Writers Syndicate of Turkey.

Lament



To be a woman
means being invaded, O mum!


they took of my everything


a woman took my childhood
a man, my womanhood...


God should not create woman
God does not know how to give birth


here, the ribs of all men
are broken


our neck is thinner than hair


men are carrying us
like a funeral on their shoulders


we have been under their feet


light like a feather
we flew from a world to an Adam


and my words are, oh mum!
their footprints....
 



Dad



we do not have any bridge between us
except that we are in the same world


in this place where a river took me
you are a river-bed drying behind


like life, suddenly and in vain


indeed, do you have any idea
what for we came here


what for you held mirror without stop
to my face in nothingness


did you be proud of yourself
when you became a father to loneliness and sorrow


I look at life from my dreams now


you are disappearing
like a voice that I put on  silence
dad...



 
Sometimes Man is Getting Tired of Dying



Sometimes man is getting tired of dying
Sometimes he becomes a country left by everybody


Like a country left by everybody sometimes
A women is left


Inside the sea of sorrow a fish
As it crashes the shore the sea raises


So that nobody could see my wounds
Over, I form a scab


If I were not, the sorrow would not be



 
Before Me There Were Deserts



They were eating my body as carcass, I saw
I did not say "Bring me to earth!"
around fire I found myself
                      like the hump of a camel
I have bent myself while passing through the earth


they have gathered a handful of sand in their palms
                                                and blown...
at nights I have slept in the footprints of animals
my body was in waves
                         when the sand ended
inside my veil, my eyes found
                        “where the world is”
-even if I am a Bedouin in the desert of desire-


in front of night, dates fell into my mind
                         I could not find sound for my ears


as wide as saharas I have looked at my heart