we were ash with you, not fire
most beautiful of two mouthed women
much slimy spinach of my meal
an alienation in each quiet
I was sentenced you in birth, became a prisoner
you are a book, a dusty book
with leaning horizons from the edge
a tiny book in the palm
you are the autumn with faded leaves
an alienation in each quiet
I am scared when facing
what if my word is condemned
every man is an echo for himself
there is not a water pounded in old mortars
every longing blossoms a space
in an escalloped daisy.
Koray Feyiz
(Translated from Turkish by Koray Feyiz)
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 8:17 PM UTC
we were ash with you, not fire
most beautiful of two mouthed women
much slimy spinach of my meal
an alienation in each quiet
I was sentenced you in birth, became a prisoner
you are a book, a dusty book
with leaning horizons from the edge
a tiny book in the palm
you are the autumn with faded leaves
an alienation in each quiet
I am scared when facing
what if my word is condemned
every man is an echo for himself
there is not a water pounded in old mortars
every longing blossoms a space
in an escalloped daisy.
Koray Feyiz
(Translated from Turkish by Koray Feyiz)
