Behçet Necatigil
Behçet Necatigil (Mehmet Behçet Gönül) (16 April 1916, Istanbul - 13 December 1979, Istanbul); He is a Turkish poet, teacher and translator. He is one of the leading poets of modern Turkish poetry.[5] He did not join any literary movement; He is an independent poet and intellectual.[6] Apart from poetry, he has produced works in many fields of literature, from theater to mythology, from lexicography to novel translations and radio plays. He contributed greatly to the adoption of radiophonic play as a branch of literature in Turkey with his plays, translations and adaptations.[7] The artist, who is known as the "Poet of Houses", is also known for his identity as a teacher as well as his literary work. BiographyBehçet was born in Istanbul, Ottoman Empire, in 1916. He graduated from the Teachers' High School (Turkish: İstanbul Yüksek Öğretmen Okulu) in Istanbul in 1940, and served as a teacher of literature at Kabatas Erkek Lisesi until the year 1972. His first poem was published in Varlık journal during his high school years in 1935. From then on, he continued to write poetry for over 40 years. Behçet is also well known for his radio dramas. He was among the contributors of the literary magazine Papirüs which was edited by Cemal Süreya.[1] In the Şairler Sofası park in Vişnezade Istanbul there are two sculptures of him that were erected with the parks inauguration in 1998. These are an individual sculpture of him by sculptor Namık Denizhan, and the main sculpture of the park Şairler Sofası by sculptor Gürdal Duyar, in which he is featured alongside 7 other poets.[2][3] Necatigil Poetry AwardTo commemorate his life, an annual poetry award was instituted in 1980. It was given on the date of Necatigil's death (13 December) until 1993 but is now given at the date of his birth, which is 16 April.www.necatigil.com. Bibliography
Sample PoemIN LOVE Love, you put off till tomorrow Timid, reverent, tongue-tied. Unknown you remained To all your kin. Through concerns never ending, (I know you never wanted it that way) The feelings that welled in your heart Never swelled When a glance was enough to reveal everything. You expected longer days to come Speaking of love in minutes was ugly to you That the years would pass in such a hurry, In such a fuss never crossed your mind. In your secret garden There were flowers blossoming at night, alone. You regarded too trifling to give Or somehow, you hadn’t enough time.[4] See alsoReferences
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