Guest: Ahmet Zeki Yeşil
Title of The Work: Oh Leyla…
Original Title: Ah Leyla Ah…
Genre: Prose Writing
Oh Leyla… Blood stains in my heart, the smell of roses in my nostrils. Trouble burned, water ignited. To make a long story short, my situation is very delicate Leyla. Whenever my sleep is interrupted, I know it’s you. Don’t touch me or I’ll cry! I’m good if I write you, bad if I don’t. I use your name in a sentence and it becomes a poem. A whole sky fits in your eyes, I fly a seven-colored kite. I found you, I got rid of my troubles, you’re my outfit. Please, let’s leave everything aside, let’s not break down. The world is so beautiful, the atmosphere is so bad. I feel like going crazy sometimes. Let me be around you like a loose cannon for a day. I’m a man of my word, I speak words of poetry. I’m a woodcutter, but like Majnun, I burn only for you. Global warming, ozone depletion, blah blah blah. I stink of you. I’m stubborn, I don’t wash. Interestingly, I liken my life after you to an empty baklava. I left a lip share of memories in my glass, remember me with every sip. Our dreams are orphaned. For once we couldn’t make love voluntarily, in a democratic environment. In a way, it was an incomplete attempt to make love. That’s why we live below the threshold of love.
Oh Leyla… Today I added to my story and it became a novel. In the novel, a man was selling lamb chestnuts in Beyoğlu. The weather was gloomy, he was wearing a cap and it was drizzling. Madonna with the Fur Coat asked, “Where is his lamb?” The man said, “I don’t know, Sebahattin knows.” Sebahattin had gone to Sırça Köşk Pastry Shop, he was going to leave hope on the hanger and come back. Wait, wait, he didn’t come. Madonna in a Fur Coat asked one last question: “Is there a song you want?” The man said, “You can’t sing uncomposed songs…” and thanked her. Then the Fur Coat Madonna left and the novel ended. Just because you said, “Don’t be sad,” doesn’t mean I won’t be sad. I am inadvertently saddened by the decline in our gross national income. A brave man’s gloom and a brave man’s teeth are rotted by sugar. There is no mistake in the rosary, but there is a mistake in the tassel. I said, “I’m poor”, you said, “I have the flu”. Believe me, I’m going to miss you more than I thought. I’ll listen to whatever song reminds me of you. You remind me of the Madonna with the Fur Coat. But she doesn’t know us. I have good intentions towards people, whether they know me or not. But I can’t make good use of my good intentions.
Oh Leyla… I’ve fallen in love with a high payback. I’m confused but I’m a freedom-loving person. I’m leaving, let this city be without me. Let everyone understand Chania and Konya. If the world burns, maniacs will burn it. Don’t cry! You cry, I’ll kiss your tears. Don’t rely on songs and say, “Let this song come to you, let this song come to me.” There are songs that go astray. I realized it’s not good to love too much. You love too much, you dote on her, she thinks you’re turned on. Let me tell you the truth… I haven’t loved enough because of age. The world is a circle in which we rot. People with fans are not mortal. What I write here has nothing to do with real people and institutions. The only thing that bothers me is the orange juicer. I’m sorry I wasn’t nice to you, but at least be nice to yourself. Make it a surprise, show up suddenly and say “Moo”. Let me look at you like an ox looks at a tire…
