Mr. Arican, what is there to know about love?

 Çalıştığım okulda öğrenciler tarafından çıkarılan mevsimlik dergiye verdiğim söyleşi. Aşkı, edebiyatı, felsefeyi, hayatın anlamını, kısacası bir lise öğrencinin radarına takılan hemen her şeyi konuştuk... Oturup yazmadığım için tekrarlar bol, klişe cümleler de. Olsun, şu baki kubbede hoş bir sada bırakabilirsek ne mutlu bize... 

Room 518*

Room 518

In a room with six walls, a teacher is confined,

The guardian of Mathematics, a scholar's mind.

Frosted windows cloak the sky, to a certain degree.

The boundless azure seems never to be free.

Each day unfolds in numerous measured tasks,

Teaching trigonometry and significance tests,

Lessons were planned, and papers were graded.

Yet the sunlight's touch remains strictly untraded.

Dry flowers witness each passing day,

Used tissues collect stories along the way.

Math projects whisper the untold tales,

In a classroom's sanctuary, a manifold maze.

Chinese poems breathe in the silent air,

A gift from the Young Teacher’s fair.

Textbooks stand as prying guides,

Protectors of wisdom in hidden tides.

From desk to desk, a journey is about to begin,

The universe is an infinite sphere with no safety pin.

Those who don’t know geometry cannot enter.

Except hope, that’s everybody’s tormenter.

Through frosted panes, there’s a downward view,

A pond reflects what the sky once knew.

The teacher gazes at the pond below,

A dance of reflections, a borrowed glow.

Through the glass, a gaze to the pond's ballet,

A reflection of dreams, a glimmering foreplay.

Am I a bird to fly or its shadow to crawl?

Truth to be told, for once and for all.

Classroom is a cave, an invitation to deception.

All we have is shimmering reflections.

People are chained to their own imperfections.

Yet the teacher knows there is a way to liberation.

Plato's echo lingers, a shadow cast,

Mathematics is the key to the infinite vast.

Put the sun in the cave, open the blind eye,

Math is the only way to break the chain and fly.

In this room adorned with learning's art,

A poignant tale is told, a beating heart.

A teacher's journey, a truly silent quest,

In the dance of shadows, a soul at rest.

Ali Rıza Arıcan, Dec 9th 2023, Shenzhen

* Bu yıl bana denk gelen sınıfın camları buzlu, sadece aşağıya doğru yarım olarak açılıyorlar ve gördüğü kısım da okulun duvarları arasında kalan üçgen şeklinde bir boşluk. Aşağıda da ufak bir havuz var. Bazen bunalınca camdan aşağıya bakıp güneşin yansımasını gözlüyorum. Bugün evde otururken aklıma sınıfıma bir şiir yazmak geldi. Buradaki yabancı arkadaşlar da okuyabilsinler diye İngilizce yazdım. Buyrunuz, biraz Eflatun, biraz Hayyam...