The lady of the höyük

On either side the höyük lie

Marshland and Cyperaceae,

That cloth the wold and meet the sky;

And thro’ the mounds a river runs by

To the many-levelled höyük;

And up and down the people go.

Climbing ladders to and fro

Round a höyük there below.

The höyük of Çatal!

Marsh birds sing and sheep/goat shiver,

Phragmites reeds go on forever,

Marls and clays are gathered hither,

Resources flourish, by the river

Flowing down to Çatalhöyük.

Mudbrick walls and buildings hidden,

Overlook a space of midden,

Beneath the building floors are hidden

The dead of Çatalhöyük.

By the edges, backswamp sealed,

Lies early midden, now concealed,

The cattle graze, perhaps, a field

Where wheat and barley grow to yield,

Surplus at Çatalhöyük.

In the houses, people sweep,

They form deposits, Sounding Deep,

Yearly plaster coatings keep

The walls at Çatalhöyük.

On the rooftops people meet

And piles of rubbish form the streets;

The ash and bones, remains of feasts

When trampled down, the tell increased,

Preserved at Çatalhöyük

Obsidian tools and figurines,

The Mother Goddess, so she seems,

A symbol of forgotten dreams;

The treasures of the höyük.

One thousand years of life unwind

But in the end the town declined,

The buildings filled and left behind,

They left remains for us to find

The end of Çatalhöyük.

But who hath seen the story told?

The mysteries as they unfold?

From beginning to the end behold,

The lady of the höyük.

Sometimes a troop of students glad,

An artist with a drawing pad,

Sometimes a scruffy Suffolk lad

With X ray gun and undergrad,

Comes by to Çatalhöyük.

And oftentimes by mini bus

The Profs come in and make a fuss,

While in the labs researchers cuss,

And excavators they discuss

Entangled Çatalhöyük.

And in the field she would delight

To show the höyük’s magic sights,

And often through the starry nights

A fire burned with plumes and lights,

And music played, at Çatalhöyük.

No longer will we hear the sound

Of daily treks across the mound,

But memories they will abound,

The lady of the höyük.

Photo by Jason Quinlan