Bringing Contemporary Turkish Poetry into English: A Conversation with Buğra Giritlioğlu and Daniel Scher

Even when poetry is read silently, we tend to subvocalize. Rhythm—and even a kind of melody shaped by stress patterns—still resonates.

Curated and translated by Buğra Giritlioğlu, with the collaboration of Daniel Scher, The Pulse of Contemporary Turkish: Poems from the New Millennium (Syracuse University Press, 2025) seeks to dismantle the “Orient of the anthologies,” as Laurent Mignon calls it in his incisive foreword, offering instead a mosaic of voices that refuses reduction to cliché or cultural shorthand. The volume spans 172 poems by 61 poets, weaving canonical figures alongside bold experimenters who push the boundaries of form and language. Familiar names, such as Lâle Müldür and Murathan Mungan, converse with emerging poets whose works might otherwise remain inaccessible to English-language readers. The effect is an anthology that is not merely representative but dialogic.

Turkish, with its null-subject syntax and layered ambiguities, resists a one-to-one mapping into English. Rather than smoothing these difficulties, the translators lean into them. “If any of the translations seem obscure,” Giritlioğlu writes, “the reader can rest assured the originals are equally so.” This refusal to domesticate feels radical in an era of over-sanitized translations. Scher’s role balances this fidelity with readability, bringing a native ear attuned to English idiom

In this interview, I speak with Buğra Giritlioğlu, whose background straddles materials science, ethnomusicology, and literary translation, and Daniel Scher, whose editorial eye and native English fluency helped shape the anthology’s final voice. We discuss the puzzles and pleasures of translating experimental Turkish poetry, the ethics of collaboration, and the aesthetic fault lines that define this vibrant literary moment. From negotiating null-subject ambiguities to preserving sonic textures across languages, their reflections offer a rare glimpse into the labor behind making a national literature audible in another tongue.

Ibrahim Fawzy (IF): Buğra, given your background in materials science and ethnomusicology, how do these fields inform your work as a translator of poetry?

Buğra Giritlioğlu (BG): Both materials science and ethnomusicology have shaped how I think, in ways that carry over into translation. All three require an inquisitive, analytical mindset. Translation often involves a kind of optimization, much like materials science: you’re constantly weighing trade-offs, making fine-tuned adjustments, and aiming for the best possible version under specific constraints.

There are more intuitive links as well. I wrote my ethnomusicology thesis on Georgian vocal polyphony, and I happen to love the sound of the Georgian language. My passion for music and my passion for languages have always felt deeply entangled. Ethnomusicology doesn’t directly inform my poetry translation work, but I’d say both grow from the same root: a fascination with sound, language, the human voice, and how meaning is shaped by rhythm and tone. Even when poetry is read silently, we tend to subvocalize. Rhythm—and even a kind of melody shaped by stress patterns—still resonates.

IF: Daniel, do you see a connection between the precision of mathematics, the rhythm of music, and the nuances of poetic language and translation?

Daniel Scher (DS): Those connections certainly exist, but for me, it was the puzzle-like aspect of mathematics that carried over into my enthusiasm for the translating. I became attracted to mathematics in my childhood because I loved the mental challenge of working within a clear set of rules, and from those, deriving results that were surprising and delightful. Many of the perplexing aspects of our life defy a solution, but mathematics gave me a platform where there was a path from puzzlement to understanding. In this same manner, I saw the process of translating each poem in our anthology as a puzzle that invited our engagement.

IF: Buğra, you attended the book launches in Istanbul—could you describe the atmosphere of these events, especially as you were able to witness the poets’ reactions when they received their copies?

BG: Given the social, political, and economic turmoil our country (and the world, really) is experiencing, celebrations these days tend to be a bit muted. That said, the book launches in Istanbul went very well. Many of the poets who attended were genuinely moved and expressed their gratitude repeatedly, both in person and by sharing the book widely on social media. I’d been anxious in the lead-up, but felt surprisingly at ease on the day itself. I even had the confidence to play and sing a bit of music for the audience, which was a personal highlight.

IF: During the translation process, did you communicate with any of the living poets included in this anthology? If so, how did their input or perspectives influence your translations?

BG: Yes, I was in touch with nearly all of the living poets, mostly to clarify ambiguous lines or to better understand their intended meaning or tone. These conversations helped ensure greater accuracy and sensitivity in the translations. A few of the poets spoke enough English to engage directly with our drafts, and we welcomed their feedback. We made a point of respecting their choices whenever possible.

IF:  In total, you selected 172 poems by 61 poets. What were your criteria during curation? And how did you ensure diversity in the final anthology?

BG: At first, I was simply collecting poems I found beautiful—based on recommendations from poets, my own reading in bookstores and libraries, and research online. Over time, I began to notice certain universal themes running through the poems—life, death, love, time, nature—and started leaning into those themes as I made further selections.

Toward the end of the process, I took a step back to actively check for diversity and reached out to the poets again to help fill any gaps. That said, I think our brains are naturally drawn to variety—new ideas, different voices, unexpected styles—which also played a role in shaping a diverse and well-rounded collection.

IF: What do you see as the defining characteristics or trends in contemporary Turkish poetry? How do the “canonical” poets inform or contrast with the “emerging” poets in this collection?

BG: I wouldn’t call myself an expert on the full scope of contemporary Turkish poetry, but among the emerging poets represented in this collection, a few trends stood out. In terms of subject matter, there’s a clear shift toward the mundane and everyday—poems that focus less on grand or abstract themes and more on ordinary experience.

Formally, many of these poets are quite experimental, playing with language, structure, and technique in unexpected ways. Outside the scope of this anthology, some are also exploring multidisciplinary approaches to poetry—integrating elements like spoken word, music, or video in their performances, and blurring the lines between genres.

By contrast, the more canonical poets tend to work within more traditional forms and themes. Still, their presence provides an important reference point; the emerging poets are often building upon—or pushing against—their influence. That dynamic tension across generations adds to the richness and vitality of the contemporary scene.

IF: Could you describe your collaborative process? What strengths did each of you bring to the work?

BG: I was the one who selected the poems for the anthology, though, in several cases, Daniel helped narrow down the translations we ultimately included. Our collaboration worked well because we each brought complementary strengths to the table: I’m a native Turkish speaker, and Daniel’s a native English speaker with a deep sensitivity to tone, idiom, and nuance.

Beyond language, Daniel also brought valuable cultural insight. For example, he would flag moments where a phrase might unintentionally echo a well-known film or book title—things I might have missed. That kind of attention helped us avoid missteps and kept the translations feeling fresh and intentional.

IF: You’ve translated prose before focusing on this poetry anthology. How does translating poetry differ for you from translating prose? What specific aspects of poetry translation do you find most rewarding or most challenging?

BG: Translating poetry is often more rewarding precisely because it’s more challenging. While some prose can be quite “poetic,” in general, poetry translation involves additional layers of complexity. Sound, wordplay, ambiguity, multiple or hidden meanings all play crucial roles in poetry, making it much harder to capture fully in another language.

When translating, I pay close attention to the kinds of wordplay or ambiguity the poet uses and explain these nuances to Daniel. Together, we brainstorm ways to recreate similar effects in English, even if that means shifting where or how those effects appear in the translation. It’s a collaborative effort to preserve the spirit and artistry of the original while crafting something that resonates naturally in the target language.

IF: Could you provide examples of challenges you encountered in translating the poems in this book? How did you resolve these issues?

BG: There were several recurring challenges throughout the translation process. One was wordplay—things like truncated or merged words, puns, or clever shifts in language that are often untranslatable. Another had to do with sound-based techniques, such as alliteration and assonance, which are difficult to reproduce in another language without distorting the meaning. Enjambment posed yet another challenge, especially when it created ambiguity or double meanings that were hard to carry over into English.

There were also challenges specific to Turkish. As a null-subject language with a flexible subject-object-verb (SOV) word order, Turkish allows for a kind of vagueness or fluidity that English doesn’t easily accommodate. I discuss these and other grammatical features in a footnote in my preface (on page xxxi), since they shape so many of the decisions we had to make in translation.

In each case, we approached the issue with care, weighing what mattered most in a given line—whether it was meaning, rhythm, tone, or image—and trying to preserve that core element in English.

Buğra Giritlioğlu is the founding editor of the queer publishing house obiçim yayınlar. In addition to a novel and three poetry collections, he has published translations in such journals as Chicago Review, Mantis, and Middle Eastern Literatures.

Daniel Scher is a senior editor at McGraw Hill Education and coauthor of numerous mathematics texts. He is the current managing editor of the publications team at OrigamiUSA.

Ibrahim Fawzy is an Egyptian writer and literary translator working between Arabic and English. He holds an MFA in Literary Translation from Boston University and both a BA and MA in Comparative Literature from Fayoum University, Egypt. Fawzy’s translations have been featured in various literary outlets. His accolades include a 2024-25 Global Africa Translation Fellowship, a 2024 PEN Presents Award, and the 2024 Peter K. Jansen Memorial Travel Fellowship from ALTA.

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