I closed my eyes against the trouble
a window was opened in front of it; I am able
to know you, sundries that are large and small
of the houses, the dead left behind us
The beatles playing on the radio wings
your tired and sweaty horses instantly
the horses waiting saddled to the blues
to which I bridled, on the plain of my heart
You mouths look like the men with clumsy hair
who whipped wind-up toys in childhood in the streets  
your fruits taste like the rapt, sourish friendships
while they are gathering for the morning
They got lost at full gallop with the longing
for their youthfulness days they lost
your horses whose manes were embroidered
with unhappiness, an escapee wind in their pillions
I am pulling you into the shallows of the sea
without hurting, into a minaret of fairy
while the old clowns of our hearts
drowning of happiness in an evening


Koray Feyiz
(Translated from Turkish by Koray Feyiz)