The poetic collection of “May Our Dreams Change the World” (Turkish poet Mesut Şenol…) – By Domenico Pisana / Translated by Claudia Piccinno

 
The poetic collection of “May Our Dreams Change the World”
Turkish poet Mesut Şenol…
 
“Poems of the soul” that express the “humus” of the author’s deep and sincere interiority, are of those contained in the bilingual poetry collection (Italian-English) entitled “May Our Dreams Change the World”, published by the Turkish poet Mesut Şenol with the Italian translation by the Apulian poet Claudia Piccinno; a real itinerary where the poetic word impregnated with the fibers of the heart already highlights in its “Benennung” the supporting axis of a world built on the pillars of the human experience of love:
 
“Yet love keeps its solid grasp in people’s fate it can speak for its objective
Dilemmas run amok in the planet of love who gets hurt nobody knows/ Resignation to the end ..”
(THE TONGUE OF LOVE)
 
That of Şenol is a poetry in which the human adventure and the meditating “I” move in a mutual exegesis set in contemplative spaces, in the profiles of moving images, in the changes of the voices of the seasons.
Mesut Şenol, who produced and presented programs for TRT, the Turkish state TV and who teaches at the Department of Communication of the University of Bahçesehir, and the Department of and Translation and Interpreting Studies of Yeditepe University in Istanbul, has a solid cultural background characterized by its presence in the Executive Council of Writers and Translators of the Baltic Sea, Black Sea and Mediterranean Sea area based in Rhodes, by the publication of nine poetry collections, as well as participation in collections of national and international poetry events and publications.
Reading his sylloge May Our Dreams Change the World, Artshop-Istanbul, 2019, you immediately grasp an immersion in a genuine naturalistic datum from which that desire for music is released that is in his soul and pursues the thrill of the notes on the keys of the heart: the “eyelashes of summer”, “the fall of autumn leaves”, “the hill of dreams”, the “desert breeze”, “the bird’s paradise”, the “wild flower” represent the symbolic figure of a journey that takes up the time of life in its anthology of mutations and dynamic becoming:
 
“… I hear screams at the summer movie theatre/ the fireflies the guardians of the flaming pale/ blue air a request starting with me and ending with me”
(LET THE EYELASHES OF THE SUMMER BRUSH YOR EYES )
 
The hopes fly and land in some instances Autumn leaves find their place in somewhere unexpected …
 
“You may close your eyes to ignore your heartache If it ever happens to you to say goodbye to someone It may start the season of Autumn already there ready…”
(HIGH SEASON FOR THE FALL OF THE AUTUMN LEAVES)
 
The poet tightens around the perplexities of the seasons, and his poetry runs to the ports of dreams, examines existence in “a close embrace with feelings”; transfigures the uncertainty of melancholy while “… The distant places seem close, even if the station / of the mirages is vacant / while going down the hill, the signals / are freed from the heat of dreams …”, in Descending for the hill of dreams .
The motif of the dream, which since Homer and the Greek world has been at the center of the imagination of poets, storytellers and playwrights, informs the whole collection, since Mesut Senol intercepts its prophetic and symbolic potential by charging it with one or more functions; he believes, in fact, in the “power of the dream” to change the world, because – as Tommaso Ceva, Italian Jesuit, poet and mathematician (1648 -1734) said, “poetry is a dream made in the presence of reason”.
And Senol’s dream is not in fact “fugue mundi”, but believing in the reality of life and love that “claims / to reach his goal”; it is not to surrender to life but the certainty that “the challenges consist in a face to face / to survive under the hot sun of that macabre desert”, and that “Living close to the earth brings harvest time to completion”; the dream is not even the negation of memory but
sinking into the most secret roots of the past, which you have to leaf through like an album to look to the future:
 
“Should I leaf through the pages of that notebook of secrets
Should I listen to the songs dropping down from that past
Should I say they were the best of all dreams and realities”
(NOTEBOOK OF SECRETS)
 
Poetry and dream are therefore, in this collection, essentially and fundamentally language: both speak in images, live on the same substance, refer to a hermeneutic necessity and a critical vision of reality; in Senol’s verses the dream is, in short, a journey into the depth of consciousness and even the “poetic nous” participates, at different levels, in this adventure as can be seen from the multiplicity of images that vibrate in the poems of the entire collection:
 
Be it the floor on the forest of a wind’s wing to be carried away ,pag. 11
Dragons and other otherworldly creatures come to life to reign a new era , pag.16
Small drops of elixir taken by the heavenly birds , pag.33
wild running stays captive in us , pag 35
Mirages are being daggered by un-howling groan , pag 41
There is an awkwardness in the riddle solved through kisses, pag 49
Dragons and stars alike fly skies effortless ,pag 51
Out of happiness there is tears full of an ocean
What is left from longing and parting ,pag 53
Homes of tranquility reflect upon the most wanted deeds done , pag 65
Vicious thoughts rein our imagination , pag 101
 
Therefore an intense imaginative activity that accompanies the poet’s journey into his interiority, a journey that leaves signs that allow you to retrace the emotion with which he lived it and that offers the reader a wide range of hermeneutic possibilities.
In the same poem that gives the title to the collection, although he descends into reality full of existential moods, he never loses sight of the measure and dynamics of the dream present in the human values inherent in art, (“Artists of a divine world”) , in music (“Feelings flow between musicians”), in historical memory and in the singing of “beautiful voices that mix”; nor does he lose the sense of transcendence: “The magic fingers stretch / In the direction of heaven”.
And so he recreates, from any itinerary, the monograph of each of his argumentative reflections, projecting himself “into the world of distant fairies” and extending his poetry, with vocabulary and verbal links that reflect the measure of the real ideal and emotional tension of the poet, towards the world of utopia and illusions:
 
“and all of a sudden I fly my dream carpet I give way to the dimming out illusions”
(I HAVE LISTENED TO YOU)
 
The poet tells himself in a compelling poetic prosody now noting the emotions felt and the inner pain for a “nature that gave birth to both suffering and love”; now recalling relationships marked by “wounds of love”: “… I loved that you were attracted to me … A crazy woman, you are, you did not disappoint me”, in “A crazy woman”; now curling up “the fatigue of the voyage” and wondering “if the rudder of the ship sailed by dreams steers …”, in “Her teeth and her dreams”.
Kahlil Gibran wrote: “The night is silent / and in her silence / dreams are hidden”; Mesut Senol also seems to intercept his dreams in silence while he finds himself “in the balance between the sensations (which) reign in the land of humans”, both with the hope of being able to “transform the world that strives to be tolerant … / Ready to fight against the disturbing means ”, both with the awareness that“ Love simply survives against all odds ”, in“ Love survives “.
For the Turkish poet, dreams are a constitutive trait of man, intrinsically linked to him, inseparable from him and always in motion; it is a “Revealing and leaving behind an engine of time…”; it is “a fantastic journey into the soul / A metaphor for that miraculous Odyssey / Behind the mask of that ridiculous satire”; in short, Mesul still seems to tell us – and I borrow William Shakespeare in his quote from The Storm – that “We are made of the same substance as dreams, and in the space and time of a dream our short life is collected”.
Life, in this poetic collection, appears in fact as an endless question, beyond all possible knowledge, always in search of an unknowable absolute; and just as the dream is fleeting, so too real life has an illusory and transitory character. In the structure of the versification there is a reality underlying the apparent reality, which can be reached through poetic intuition. Mesut Senol manages to penetrate the human soul and probe its unconscious desires, dreams and fears, using for this purpose an “alogic language”, which correlates the most diverse elements, also making extensive use of rhetorical figures, of metaphors, analogy and synaesthesia, and giving the poetic word a strong and penetrating allusive depth: “Not even the desert made life miserable in the old days of encounter”; “The thresholds were created to be crossed”; “I would have been a prisoner of our dreamy looks”; “In the leaf I transform myself”; “There will be some cure for aching hearts”; “The fate of Adam and Eve is also sealed”; “The fruits of paradise let their inner seeds spill over the horizon”; “At dawn the accumulated debt for vile actions accumulates”; “There is magic in every genuine move”.
The collection, as can be seen from the various verses cited, is rich in descriptive determinations, and in it the thought of the poet invisibly dominates, intent on traveling the “journey in search of the soul” “waiting for what will happen”; between aphorism and “story”, Senol’s poetry relies on the long breath of the hypermeter, with the tones and cadences of the monologue that goes up the deep paths of the heart without renouncing the epistemological function and the task of indicating the way, illuminating the minds and consciences, relying on that oneiric visionary according to which
 
“what is expected can happen;
 
The challenge is not just you and me
The scene makes us feel so powerless
It comes and goes in no time
Amber-light horizon dims out
Vicious thoughts rein our imagination
The full moon lights its way throughout
Nature produces its eerie sound of mixed lives
Owls of dreamy stories speak up their language
Passionate touches are missed from distance
Hopelessness is not a choice to cross out
This soul-searching journey cannot be dismissed
Even the most mundane circumstance stipulates
Your destiny has not sealed yet
There are more adventures in line
To be waiting to happen
Peace or war, to be or not to be
You and I seem to be the most pressing issue…”
(WAITING TO HAPPEN)
 
Translated by Claudia Piccinno
 
 

Domenico Pisana

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