THE LIGHT MILLENNIUM
EVERYTHING SHOULD BE UNDER THE SUN

And The Lord Said

Mahmut Esat OZAN

Where shall I install
a bountiful track of land
so that the light of day
and the heavenly rains,
the firmament disposes,
trigger the explosion
of blossoms of roses
one day?

Where shall I justly station
the poets and the painters
so that they'd be inspired
with joy, bliss, and exultation
by Mother Nature's ecstasy,
delightfulness, and perfume,
imbued with a lush fantasy
only the 'tropics' presume?

Where shall I locate
the boundless forests
of verdant groves,
replete with orange trees
in countless droves,
laden with white flowers,
so fragrant and so sweet,
languishing in summer heat,
inebriated yellow lemons
with their aroma permeating
the apogees of high heavens?

Where should the stately royal palms
begin to take their roots
with their leafy fronds swaying,
heralds of mirthful days?

Will they be the rubric of passion
or simply the winds' drudgery and toil?

Where, on this unique planet
should its seat be planted?

What worldly order, what gambit
deserves to be transplanted?

Will a satiated orgy of colors
indelibly scented with love
ever reach its desired ambit?

Where to shall I extend
long stretches of golden sand
and the bluest of blue skies,
enfolding heavenly grants
wrapped in striking sensuous hues,
some filmy as gossamer wings,
others a bit more profuse?

Amidst an eternity - lying
in space which separates
the earth from heaven,
where from should emanate
the lush green garden of Eden,
bewildered by fondness - dying
between the sophists and the heathen,
is that where?

That's how the Lord, the Creator
did opine, and conjecture
about the far off regions
of a geographical lecture:
Asia, Europe, and Africa,
Australia, Antarctica.
Each name mentioned by the Maker,
soon became a "God's Little Acre."
More areas were to be seen:

Egypt among them was exciting,
India, China, far away Japan
were mysterious and grand.
"But more so," He concluded,
"are the bewitching Turkish lands
ruled by the Ottoman clans."
He was pleased with his deed,
of course, without being vain
He wiped his brow, and ran his fingers
through his white silky mane.

Then he extended his vision
to the Polynesian plane.
He stopped over Tahiti,
He caressed the Hawaiian islands.
Then with his soft, gentle flair,
He began to breathe in
the invigorating California air.

He soared over the camps
From which Montezuma came,
The remnant of a civilization
Of pre-Columbian fame.
For a while, all slowed down
and time stood still.
Then He said: "Alas!" with trepidation

"I am not happy with what I've got,
there must be 'somewhere' that I forgot."
With almost a sad vocalization
He gave a little laugh, and said, "No, indeed,
just common thinking is all I need."

He then murmured to himself,
"I shall try for some more,
perhaps on a not-so-distant shore."
Then he reached a spot, serene.
He scooped a handful of water
from a limpid spring
and took a satisfying sip.

Then kissed the ground,
blessed it with joy, and
washed the dust of earth
from his weary eyes.

"From now on," he said "nothing defies
my precious plaything, my toy,
my place, I've found it at last."
With that behind him, he gazed
at the crystal white beaches, amazed
by his newly found peninsula,
beamed with affection and cheer.

With the index finger of his right hand,
He drew a half circle on the horizon,
raised both arms in the air
as if preaching from the topmost steeple
began to declare loud and clear,
"I've found what I came here for.
you shall be known, furthermore,
as the uncontestable queen
of this peaceful blue realm.

None will ever dispute you
as long as I'm at the helm.
You shall remain my favored."
He, then, scribbled something
with his dainty, lean fingers,
on the soft and dampened sand.

A single word, which still lingers
each balmy night and bright morning
as if it were a fair warning,
or better yet, an admonition,
aimed at other lesser domains
of his far-reaching kingdom
among Judaism, Islam and Christendom:


Florida-December 2000
(Based on its original, written by the author in Spanish, in 1963)

E-mail: mozan@webtv.net

This issue is dedicated to contemporary Turkish artist Erol AKYAVA┼×.
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