Republic Day Celebration Program Flow
Transkript
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