Sixteen windows onto Cahit Zarifoglu: loneliness, nicknames, wrestling like poetry, and flowers that open without him.
We can call Cahit Zarifoglu the most “graceful” man of Turkish poetry: a unique poet who spent his whole life on the edge of loneliness, fighting for what he believed. In childhood he broke spiritually from his father; his youth was tossed from place to place. He closed his eyes on life at only 47, remembered with respect in the art of poetry for his powerful language. Let us know a little more closely Cahit Zarifoglu, who lived like a sorrowful novel…
1. “Baba Sait”
He never accepted his father marrying another woman over his mother, and stayed hard and cold toward him for life. Tasting fatherlessness so young, he treated his brother Sait, only a year and a half older, as his father. At home Sait was soon called “Baba Sait.
2. Torn Buttons
He spent most of his life alone and fleeing people. From childhood he fought to stay upright and not collapse; to need no one he sewed his own torn buttons and sometimes fed friends with meals he cooked himself. Everything had to be learned; you could not burden a mother left alone!
3. First Nickname: Aristo Cahit
Cahit was so still and withdrawn that school gossip said he was quiet from heartbreak, and friends talked constantly about his “sickly” state. In truth he was fleeing all of humanity. His sage-like calm and silence led friends to call him Aristotle. He became “Aristo Cahit.
4. A Graceful Child on the Wrestling Mat
When the house emptied he listened to classical Western music on the radio and searched his soul in a tiny room; with friends he oddly joined a wrestling circle. At one meet he was paired with Halil, the strongest and biggest there. Rasim, Alaeddin, and Erdem all expected Halil to throw him on the first move. The poet who was as graceful as his surname brought Halil’s back to the mat with fine technique. Years later Alaeddin Ozdenoren would honor him again: “Cahit wrestled like poetry.
5. Love of Flying and Broken Wings
Wrestling was not his only passion; he always wanted to dance with the clouds. To fly with birds, move toward the rainbow, glide in endless blue… The sky’s pull made him want to flee Maras and become a pilot. He entered aviation school with that dream, but broken wings and a short flight career followed, deepening his loneliness.
6. The Poet Left from Literature Class
The short flight adventure brought more problems and deeper solitude. Leaving school meant repeating grades; three years of Cahit’s life evaporated that way. Returning to literature class, the poet who would later shake Turkish verse was still searching for himself among desks.
7. Hitchhiking Across Europe
After high school he came to Istanbul and enrolled in Istanbul University’s Faculty of Letters, Department of German Language and Literature. Cahit still would not sit still; fleeing people and perhaps himself, he hitchhiked across Europe, collecting roads, cities, and solitude.
8. The Letter to Cemal Sureya and the Wish to Share a Flat
Sometimes the poet took steps large for his personality and wrote to Cemal Sureya, one of the best-known poets of the day, then in Paris. Cahit asked about sharing a flat. Cemal Sureya later recalled: before they even met face to face, in 1962 Cahit had sent a letter to Paris, getting the address from Sezai Karakoc. Cahit was a student in German Language and Literature, tired of dorms, and proposed living together when Cemal returned. Cemal, then past thirty with a decent salary, found the offer oddly reducing him to student life. After returning they met again and talked now and then on ferries, on the road, and at Sezo’s (Sezai Karakoc) home and office.
9. Second Nickname: Artist
At a gathering in Necip Fazil’s house everyone listened intently, but restless Cahit stood and wandered, looking at the bookshelf and records. Necip Fazil’s witty line gave him a second nickname after Aristotle: “My friend, while a magnificent conservatory is playing here you are busy with the sheet music, you artist.” Nuri Pakdil later echoed it: “Among the Seven Beautiful Men, the most artistic temperament was Cahit Zarifoglu.
10. Painting Beside Poetry
Besides wrestling, music, flight, and more, the poet also made drawings. Beside poetry he left sketches that friends remembered as another face of his craft.
11. The First Poetry Book Burned in the Stove
Cahit Zarifoglu finally sent his first poetry book, Isaret Cocuklari (Children of the Sign), to print. Economically it crushed him. He poured all his money into the book; unsold copies later met the stove and turned to ash. The first book that should have been a triumph became a furnace story friends never forgot.
12. Necip Fazil Asks for a Bride for Him and Witnesses the Nikah
Carrying loneliness and orphanhood inside, he was pulled out of it by Necip Fazil, who found him a suitable wife from the master’s own circle, and who stood as marriage witness. Life took a wholly different course.
13. Children and the Books He Wrote for Them
He got on amazingly with children and tried to bring out the child who still lived in him. He wrote many fairy-tale books as gifts, not only for his own kids but for all children, believing stories could raise a generation.
14. “Flowers in the Fields Will Now Open Without Me”
Cahit had pancreatic cancer. Mountains of grief rose again in every loved one’s heart. He wasted day by day until the bed became his dwelling, or his hell. Friends visited often. He said flowers in the fields would now open without him.
15. The Dream on the Deathbed and Death…
As the illness advanced he woke suddenly in pain; Rasim Ozdenoren was with him. “Rasim,” he said, “I dreamed Necip Fazil told me we would meet here in twenty-five years.” He had misheard the dream’s time; according to Rasim it was not twenty-five years but about twenty-five days later that the poet died. God had sent a message in the voice of the man he admired.
16. ACZ…
His full name was Abdurrahman Cahit Zarifoglu; he bounded his whole self with the initials “ACZ.” In the poem Sultan he crossed the limits of naivety and humility again:
“I am not a distinguished person
the initials of my name spell incapacity
I ask your forgiveness
If it is hard for You leave me to burn
If it is easy do not withhold
Life was an empty dream
Past worships are flawed
Old sins still vivid
I am not a distinguished person
My identity is in my initials
I ask to be forgiven
If it is hard for You leave me to burn
If it is easy do not withhold
Life passed empty
What remains is fearful
Even if every step were full
It is useless before You
I know
I ask
to be forgiven”
And on 7 June 1987 all of nature drowned in grief. Because flowers in the fields would now open without Cahit…
Oğuzhan Koçaklı
I have worked professionally in marketing, gaming and blockchain since 2015. I have helped create and carry out marketing strategies for many major brands. These days I work on mobile games and blockchain integration for games. AI has been my hobby for many years.
