#serenayozkan
Lead distilled from the sky, a cool stain upon my brow,
As the hearts of roses beat, the vessel trembles now.
Neither the slumber of the wind nor of the sea,
A single verse; a leap across a thousand years of darkness to be.
Silence fluttering its wings in a quiet grave,
A great, shadowless coffin, gasping in the earth’s nave.
In every broken bone, a hidden sun would rise,
O, True Owner of all Realm; lull us back to sleep where peace lies!
As the cold hand of concrete strangles the slender rose,
My soul perished in the place of judgment, heaven knows.
Was it the shroud that was torn, or the face of time?
From my palm fall the past and the dead, in a rhythm sublime.
Stars had pressed their seals upon the night’s crest,
We are the suitors of fate’s harshest quest.
The sun eventually descends upon every sorrowful breast.
Pass through the sieve of love to cleanse the stained grief,
A prayer-mat’s length is the road to eternity, brief.
We, who brought tidings from the mighty Caucasus;
Of the love that blooms the body where evening finds us.
Dead roses cannot know how arduous it is to depart from the supreme Caucasus.
(Serenay Ozkan)
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 3:46 PM UTC