PROF.DR.ULUÐ,
NUTKU
ET SON POEME-1
Dr
Ali KILIC
Paris
le 04-01-2008
Prof.Dr..ULUÐ,NUTKU
Prof.Dr
Uluð Nutku, était mon
professeur de philosophie à l’Université de Constantinople.Il est
toujours un grand philosophe et un ami
introuvable pour moi et qui
m’ a porté son soutien et sa solidarité humaine
au moment où, j’étais engagé
dans la résistance anti-fasciste et anti-colonialiste date à la quelle
l’armée turque a pris le pouvoir
le 12 mars 1971. Dans les conditions de clandestinités très dure,
j’ai porté des fleurs à
l’aéroport de Yesilkoy
au moment où notre Professeur de Philosophie Mr Takiyettin Mesgucoglu qui
partait en la RFA pour
des raisons médicales
en fèvrier 1972 en présence de Duysal et du Prof Ulug Nutku et Mme
Tomris Mengusoglu, Dr Tuten Ang.
C’était
le 28 avril 1973 que J’ai été arrêté à Kothcgiri par l’Armée
turque suite à une dénonciation et emprisonné
dans la prison militaire de Diyarbekir et jugé par le Tribunal
Militaire de l’Etat de Siège avec les autres 96 militants Kurtdes . Après
ma libération j’ai passé le
concours en novembre 1976 et en
1977 nous nous sommes rencontrés
à Ankara au moment où j’ai été maître de Conférence au Département
de Philosophie à l’Université de Hacette au moment où il passait sa thèse
de l’habilitation.Après son
examen réussi, il m’a donné ses manuscrits lors de notre rencontre en
1979 avant mon départ en France .
Suite
à la descente des forces armées turques
le 24 janvier 1984 dans
mon docicile à Ankara mon épouse
s’est arretée avec
les 320 volumes de mes livres
saisis par la police politique turque dans mon domicile y compris les manuscrits du
Professeur NUTKU, ont été
confisqué par la police
politique turque mis aux feux
par la décision du Tribunal Militaire
de l’Etat de Siège d’Ankara en
fèvrier 1984.
Après
vingt neuf ans d’exil, il a
publié un livre de la poésie
philosophique et historique intitulé UR,URUK,URÞU, et il m’ a dédié
l’un de ses poèmes ce qui représente pour moi, un honneur un très
grand en souvenir de nos discussions philosophiques
dans le Cabinet de notre Prof.Dr. T. Menguçoglu face à la beauté
de la Mer
Marmara.Je m’incline devant sa geste et je lui présente mes fleurs
du Kurdistan à l’eschange du Chant Kurde comme les souvenirs de la
Berceuse Kurde d’Aram Khatchatourian.
Dr Ali KILIC, Paris le 04-01-2008
FLYING HIGH AND
LOW
-Ballad of the Kurd-
for Ali Kýlýç
Xenophon’s army, lost on the mountains, searched a
passage to reach the Black sea. Two Kurds were captured and
interrogated. The first did not speak and was immediately killed. The
second described the passage. Asked why the first did not speak, he replied:
There is a village there. The village is near the passage. His newly married
daughter lives in that village.
The leader is Sun-Yat-Sen. The policeman was taking him, by train, to
the city where he would be
interregoted and naturally shot for treason to the State.
The leader told him that the aim of the revolution was to end the
misery of the people. The policeman let him go and then shot himself on the
spot.
He
is a Kurd living on the eastern side
of his hairy mountain
In the west he has a daughter married
in a magic mould
of wet white clay.
He
goes to her every morning
parting
breath and breeze
And
tells his wife in the evening tapping at his knees
the wonderful news of day.
He
rubs his eyes the next morning
distrusting his sight
For
up comes an array of thousands
he knows not to count
And
thousands may be another ten
which he did not see
rubbing his eyes.
They
ask him with signs
the shortest way to sea
Never
heard of it he means but thinks
these may be the winged men
Flying
atop the hills faster than a bird
but
they say he’s a liar
Seeing
him flap his fears
to give them enough reason
For
arrangement of spears.
A
fellow Kurd knows better
did
he really know
And
show them the the road they search
none could ever say
Being
in array
the magic mould
of wet white clay.
Twenty-three
centuries later
according to certain texts
The
Kurd was seen again
flying atop the hills
Like
the winged man he had
so intensely thought
Landing
on China.
He
is a Chinese a policeman
riding in a train of bones
And
by his side sits the leader
the man he had caught and tied
For
a change
of reason.
They
look out of the window
at lines and poles nearing by
Humanity
and the like
a new era for their voice
And
according to leader
also for the meaning they own
He
talks to him about
the freedom of the bone.
Taking
out of his pocket
a worn-out identity
Of
disbelief and belief
loaded at each station
The
policeman checks the time
and lets the leader go
2
Without
a word for hint
or
a sign of solution
Then
shoots himself in his compartment
taking an upright hike
All
the while perplexing alike
the pros and cons of revolution.
Research
was done on his origin
during the recent years
Some
say he began work as a Hittite
scribing wishes for all
Then
he worked a while for Pharoah
growing incredibly tall.
He
may have had other jobs
which we do not know
But
was seen again lately
this time as a newborn child
Flying
over the fields of rice
flowing high and low
In
Vietnam.
Then
betwixt two rivers here
as observes reported
A
most recent news
written in the world wide web
Strolling
among the clouds
the babe seems very cute
With
a balloon in one hand
in the other parachute.
Prof.Dr.
Uluð Nutku
