Republic Day Celebration Program Flow

29 Ekim
Cumhuriyet
Bayramımız
kutlu olsun.
CUMHURİYET BAYRAMI
TURKISH REPUBLIC DAY CELEBRATION
PROGRAM
1. Saygı Duruşu ve İstiklal Marşı
Moment of Silence and National Anthem
2. Açılış Konuşmaları - Opening Speeches
3. “Ey Özgürlük” Şarkısı - Freedom / Liberty Song
4. Dünya Dillerinden Barış Şiirler - Peace Poems
5. Picasso “Guernica” (Aurasma)
6. Lirik Dans - Lyric Dance
7. Cumhuriyet ve Barış Üzerine / Republic and Peace Speech
8. “Imagine” Şarkısı / Imagine Song
Tarih: 28 Ekim 2015, Çarşamba
Saat: 11.20-12.00
Yer: Oditoryum
Date: 28th of October 2015, Wed.
Time: 11.20-12.00
Venue: Auditorium
Song: EY ÖZGÜRLÜK / FREEDOM / LIBERTE by Paul ELUARD
Composer: Zülfü LİVANELİ
At the school on my notebook, on my desk, on trees, I write your name
On read sheets, on pure white pages, I wrote your name
On besternt images, on artilleries, rifles, on kings' crowns
On most beautiful nights, on the freshest bread of the day, I write your name
On farms and scope, on wings of birds,
On the mill under the shadow, I write
On waked path, on flattened road,
On crowded areas, your name, hey Freedom
On my doorstep, on my pots and pans, on the fire blazing in it
On the play of the spirits, on awaked (or open-eyed) lips, I write your name
On my ruined houses, on my dead lampions, on my sorrow's wall
On non-wishful absence, on all naked loneliness, I write your name
On returned health, on every single danger which passed away
I write your name, I write
With a word's excitement, I'm returning to life
I was born for you, for shout out
Hey Freedom!
Bitten Der Kinder - Bertolt Brecht (1898-1956)
Die Häuser sollen nicht brennen. Bomber sollt man nicht kennen.
Die Nacht soll für den Schlaf sein. Leben soll keine Straf sein. Die Mütter sollen nicht weinen.
Keiner soll müssen töten einen.
Çocukların Ricası
Evler yanmamalı
Bombaları atanları tanımamalıyız
Gece, uyku iç,in olmalı
Yaşamak bir ceza olmamalı
Anneler ağlamamalı
Hiçkimse öldürmeye mecbur olmamalı
Children’s Prayers
The houses should not burn.
We should not know what bombers are.
The night should be made for sleep.
Life should not be pain and punishment.
The mothers should not weep.
Nobody should kill anybody.
Jean de LaFontaine / La Paix
O Paix! source de tout bien
Viens enrichir cette terre
Et fais qu’il ne reste rien
Des images de la guerre
Ey Barış! Bütün iyiliklerin kaynağı!
Dünyamızı zenginleştir
Savaşın tüm izlerini
Yok et!
O’ Peace! Source of all greatness
Enrich our world
And let the images of the war
Disappear
Poem by Pablo Neruda
paz para el panadero y sus amores
y paz para la harina: paz
para todo el trigo que debe nacer,
para todo el amor que buscará follaje,
paz para todos los que viven: paz
para todas las tierras y las aguas
Peace for the baker and his loves,
and peace for the flour, peace for all the wheat to be born, for all the love which will seek its tasselled shelter, peace for all those alive: peace for all lands and all waters.
Barış olsun!
Fırıncı ve sevdaları için barış;
Un için
Ve doğacak tüm buğdaylar için barış olsun!
Çayır çimen arayan bütün aşklar için,
Ve bütün yaşayanlar için;
Bütün sular, bütün topraklar için
Barış olsun!
SÜNGÜ
Kardeş payı
yapmak için mi
uzattın süngünü
elimdeki
elmaya
BAYONET
Did you intend to share equally the apple in my hand like brothers
While you were pointing your bayonet to me?
-SUNAY AKIN
BARIŞ
Çocuğun gördüğü düştür barış.
Ananın gördüğü düştür barış.
Ağaçlar altında söylenen sevda sözleridir barış.
Akşam alacasında, gözlerinde ferah bir gülümseyişle döner ya baba
elinde yemiş dolu bir sepet;
ve serinlesin diye su, pencere önüne konmuş toprak testi gibi
ter damlalarıyla alnında...
barış budur işte.
Evrenin yüzündeki yara izleri kapandığı zaman
ağaçlar dikildiğinde top mermilerinin açtığı çukurlara,
yangının eritip tükettiği yüreklerde
ilk tomurcukları belirdiği zaman umudun,
ölüler rahatça uyuyabildiklerinde, kaygı duymaksızın artık,
boşa akmadığını bilerek, kanlarının,
barış budur işte.
(...)
(...)
Barış sıcak yemeklerden tüten kokudur akşamda
yüreği korkuyla ürpertmediğinde sokaktaki ani fren sesi
ve çalınan kapı, arkadaşlar demek olduğunda sadece.
Barış, açılan bir pencereden, ne zaman olursa olsun
gökyüzünün dolmasıdır içeriye;
gökyüzünün, renklerinden uzaklaşmış çanlarıyla
bayram günlerini çalan gözlerimizde.
Barış budur işte.
Bir tas sıcak süttür barış ve uyanan bir çocuğun
gözlerinin önüne tutulan kitaptır.
Başaklar uzanıp, ışık! Işık! - diye fısıldarlarken birbirlerine!
Işık taşarken ufkun yalağından.
Barış budur işte.
Kitaplık yapıldığı zaman hapishaneler
Geceleyin kapı kapı dolaştığı zaman bir türkü
ve dolunay, taptaze yüzünü gösterdiği zaman bir bulutun arkasından
cumartesi akşamı berberden pırıl pırıl çıkan bir işçi;
barış budur işte.
(...)
(...)
Barış, ışın demetleridir yaz tarlalarında,
iyilik alfabesidir o, dizlerinde şafağın.
Herkesin kardeşim demesidir birbirine, yarın yeni bir dünya
kuracağız demesidir;
ve kurmamızdır bu dünyayı türkülerle.
Barış budur işte.
Ölüm çok az yer tuttuğu için yüreklerde
mutluluğu gösterdiğinde güven dolu parmağı yolların
şair ve proleter eşitlikle çekebildiği gün içlerine
büyük karanfilini alacakaranlığın...
barış budur işte.
Barış sımsıkı kenetlenmiş elleridir insanların
sıcacık bir ekmektir o, masası üstünde dünyanın.
Barış, bir annenin gülümseyişinden başka bir şey değildir.
Ve toprakta derin izler açan sabanların
tek bir sözcüktür yazdıkları:
Barış
Ve bir tren ilerler geleceğe doğru
kayarak benim dizelerimin rayları üzerinden
buğdayla ve güllerle yüklü bir tren.
Bu tren, barıştır işte.
(...)
(...)
Kardeşler, barış içinde ancak
derin derin soluk alır evren.
tüm evren, taşıyarak tüm düşlerini.
Kardeşler, uzatın ellerinizi.
Barış budur işte.
-Yannis RITSOS Çeviren : Ataol BEHRAMOĞLU
PEACE
The dreams of a child are peace
The dreams of a mother are peace
The words of love under the trees are peace
The father who returns at dusk with a wide smile in his eyes
with a basket in hands full of fruit
and the drops of sweat on his brow
are like drops on a jug as it cools its water on the windowsill,
are peace
(...)
(...)
When wounds heal on the world's face
and it the pits dug by shellfire we have planted trees
and in hearts scorched by conflagration hope sprouts its first buds
and the dead can turn over ion their side and sleep without complaining
knowing their blood was not spilled in vain,
this is peace.
Peace is the odour of food at evening
When an automobile stopping in the street does not mean fear
When a knock on the door means a friend
And the opening of a window every hour means sky
Feasting our eyes with the distant bells of its colours,
this is peace.
Peace is a glass of warm milk and a book before the awakening child
When wheat stalks lean toward one another saying: the light, the light
And the horizon's wreath overbrims with light,
This is peace.
...
When death takes up but little room in the heart
And chimneys point with firm fingers at happiness
When the large carnation of sunset
can be smelled equally be poet and proletariat,
this is peace. (...)
(...)
Peace is the clenched fist of men
it is warm bread on the world's table
it's a mother's smile.
Only this.
Peace is nothing else
And that ploughs that cut deep furrows in all earth
Write one name only:
Peace. Nothing else. Peace.
On the backbone of my verses
The train advancing toward the future
Laden with wheat and roses
Is peace.
My brothers
all the world with all its dreams
breathes deeply in peace.
Give us your hands, brothers,
This is peace.
DAVET
Dörtnala gelip Uzak Asya'dan
Akdeniz'e bir kısrak başı gibi uzanan
bu memleket, bizim.
Bilekler kan içinde, dişler kenetli, ayaklar çıplak
ve ipek bir halıya benziyen toprak,
bu cehennem, bu cennet bizim.
Kapansın el kapıları, bir daha açılmasın,
yok edin insanın insana kulluğunu,
bu dâvet bizim....
Yaşamak bir ağaç gibi tek ve hür
ve bir orman gibi kardeşçesine,
bu hasret bizim...
-Nâzım HİKMET
INVITATION
Galloping from Far Asia and jutting out
into the Mediterranean like a mare's head
this country is ours.
Wrists in blood, teeth clenched, feet bare
and this soil spreading like a silk carpet,
this hell, this paradise is ours.
Shut the gates of plutocracy, don't let them open again,
annihilate man's servitude to man,
this invitation is ours..
To live like a tree single and at liberty
and brotherly like the trees of a forest,
this yearning is ours.
-Nâzım Hikmet
GUERNICA
Painter: Pablo PICASSO
Script: Heval TONGER & Mehmet CEMİL
I am a small town in the Basque region. My name is Guernica. I was bombarded for 4 hours by the Nazis on the night of April 26, 1937. Death appeared
suddenly in flames. It was followed by incessant mourning; in the heart of a
completely uninhabited world, timelessness ringing...”If I was made of
iron I would have decayed. I managed to hold on by being a soil”. There was
no evidence of my existence... If I knew, I would have opened clouds as wide
as the sky, as wide as my dreams, to the universe for the last time...Whom
could I convince that children once laughed with me, a mother braided her
daughter’s hair...I could not have told that a traveller catches his breath under
a tree and makes himself full with a sip of water with me; or that a young man
overcome with emotional reunion leans, his knee on my soil...”A snake gives
water to a baby sparrow” just besides me and not wanting to be viewed as
“the dead cannot be seen”... I did need to wait for that night to understand
that flames are not enough to enlighten darkness. I lost thousands of people of
mine; mothers, children, sisters and brothers; all my relatives during the
attack. Three days long I was burning, burning, burning...The war which killed
my people also stole my memories, my wishes, my yearning, my light for the
future. The war which soaked my soil with blood is also the reason for my
tears. And now, I am the most famous, immortal, anti-war painting Picasso has
made.My colors are black, white and grey. I try to represent war... What other
color could I have used to express the bombs coming suddenly in the night.
A MOTHER: I am Mary holy virgin mother. Why has the betrayer of all sacred
things taken this life from my arms?
A SOLDIER: As a soldier, I truly crave a fair war...and if we had fought without
forgetting human values, dying wouldn’t be so hard...But death furtively
crawled behind our backs and caught us in our sleep, our most beautiful
dreams cut in half... Broken sword in hand, a flower uprooted.
A MAN IN FLAMES: How can a sinless person live in hell? The answer is in
my hands opened to the sky, in my silent scream...
A WOMAN: Could a small candle enlighten the moment of darkened life?
Could it enlighten the pitch black future? I don’t know, I don’t know...I only
want a little light, even a light blinking in the night, I can even say I can’t take it
anymore. Enough that I light the light, enough that I light...
A BULL: I am the symbol of fascism and the pain of oppression...As if a young
woman representing freshness is begging, last we forget humanity...
A HORSE: You see me in the middle of the painting, dying in agony. In fact I
am the symbol of mankind fighting for life and peace.
A LIGHT: I am the shining light. Do not think that human cruelty will stay as a
secret in the darkness of that night. Inquisitive minds will illuminate yesterday,
today and tomorrow...
Song: IMAGINE by John LENNON
Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace
You may say I'm a dreamer,
but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world
You may say I'm a dreamer,
but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will live as one