12 Mart 2017 Pazar

Dreams of the Sky and the Great Expectations - Short Story by Doğan Sevimbike


Van Gogh - The Starry Night

Great Expectations in the Starry Sky

“The echoes of longing lie in the blue of the sea. The longing recreates all the paths I passed. Those lighted waters that all doors open are flowing from my mind. All the life I dream of... And I will dream many more lives conceive other dreams. As long as I dream. As a matter of being, the procedure relieved myself of a pinch of grass that I lengthened, and ended with the ground. The earthy smells of the grass. There was a breeze whispered something went away. Can the human miss the sky, I miss it. Because the sky is much bigger in the nights. Bu the night we can not see the horizon is the richest world. The lights of city turn out our imagination. All the lights are blocked and we think a little bit in the light of the stars, thoughts that we think and things that need to be corrected...”

These words were written in a book. I took it from a dusty shelf that did not really matter in an old storefront.I wanted to go to a place where I could see the sea and read it. Maybe this book should have seen a sea long after that dusty shelf. The sun was still on the hill, the world I still colored. I could not decide. I also listened to story of the young girl nest to her. They were talking about poetry. Book seller complained that no one was reading poetry anymor. The young girl also mentioned a few popular names on social media every day. Like a person who remembers the old years he wrote poetry poetry; people are not in search but in pursuit of human consumption… I will never forget book sellers gaze, pity the young girl. İt is woeful but funny… I gave the book money and got out.


 I started walking towards the sahile. Bunch of crowds. People who rush to people with a painful haste. However, such a day will not run on the street. Steps of history; The stairs go to an old limo. There are not many people in the port rundown except three out of five pillars. You're like a column watchman. They greet the incoming waves ... I saw a green between me and me hard to notice. I could not reach the marble, it was burning tent far ahead, two people were lying around, sunbathing. There are pine trees in the sun. I sat in a rubble column under the pine trees. The ground was a came across a migrating bird, watching them was enjoyable. I have watched a few sandy soil consisting of pine needles mixed with sand. I stretched out thinking that the column might have a backache. I stared at the chest for 10 days. I for their desires. Do not be generous to them either. I think the immensity of documentaries about migratory birds. But they came to greet me like they greeted me. I also greeted. Maybe they will tell you where they are going; Who knows what scales they would go to the sea ... They did not have longing "There was a man, with a book he was staring at us in his head." ... there and there, all in and out, and in the middle ... the birds is the vastness of the journeys in the sky. I want to be vast. What wa


I fell asleep, I feel the coolness of the night. I'm a little cold. The light of the moon and the stars illuminates the surroundings And here the sky stretches across me in all its color with its full width. Then do not think about it. I joined the stars and made her a sparkling. This sky and the underworld on the far side ... the earth is a ship picture in the sky. When the painting was finished, the stars became more take a little walk to see the whole crew approaching the picture I made ... and I am the captain of that ship. I wanted to drag the world, I dreamed I'd Then the following strings came to mind;


Though the sky has its mind,                                                                       
The sky has dreams  
Far beyond
Should see far beyond.
We are undefeatable, we are longing
We extend our hearts far beyond.

There was no one around midnight. The wind got stronger. I looked around the book, but the pages were scattered. Some were scattered in the sea, and some scattered in the stones. The glow of the womb's night makes me see white pages. I gathered them all one by one, mixed them together in a book. I headed towards the stairs. When I came to the street, there were many small fruit shops around. I thought it was time to brew, but I had to go to the hotel for the last time to present my notes for tomorrow's presentation. I was going to make a presentation on the literature of Journey / Travel to the poems of Kavafis from the journey of Odisaus, the first known traveler of the history. Last time I slept I looked into the poems of Kavafis;

The efforts of unhappy people are our efforts;
Our efforts are like the efforts of the Trojans.
We win a few successes, it seems like a little bit of improvement.
And returning is our valor, the great hopes we feed.
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Our efforts are like the efforts of the Trojans.
We think that once the bravery has been handled,
We can change our dark fetish,
And so are waiting in front of the city walls, ready for war.

What a strong word "great hopes"! We will turn around and return to that sacred sanctuary again with such great hopes. Great hopes not to bow to the god of fate. The Trojans were deified gods. Our confidence in neither ourselves nor our great hopes has been defeated in this great injustice of history, it has been renewed injustice. They say that history will be renewed even in the middle of the day, better defeated, more defeated and better defeated. The Great Hope was the stars born from our loss, opening in the garden of the darkness.

Doğan Sevimbike