After All, It’s About Life
O life, without
making one say “Gosh!”
Raise your head,
look at the sky
At your right
and left
Before and
behind you
Who stands there
Well, also at
the ones who make your shoulder slouch
Who depress you…
In the time
suspended on the wall
Did the hour
hand catch the minute hand?
Is there a pen
beside the notebook?
And are the
pages of it empty?
Do the worn
faces take a glassy look?
And do the life
experiences pin ears back?
History has been
transferred fast,
The season comes
to an Autumn
Is it November?
It doesn’t
matter what day it is
Is there
something left?
A moment for you
to have a rest.
What you left
behind
Broken
Or in order
After all, it’s
about life…
©Leyla Işık
Its November, Saturday, and the year happens to be
two-thousand-twenty-two. Time? Very close to the call to the early morning
prayer.
English
Translation By Mesut Şenol
This Is Our Fantasy
Actually, you
always talked about it…
in the middle of
the greenery
my back leaning
to a pine tree
me in your arms.
grass underneath
of our feet, being our carpet.
bird calls, our
romantic music,
the sky is our
blanket…
there is no time
concept!
all the times
happen to be ours
we,
two crazy lovers
making love in
the middle of the greenery.
this is our fantasy…
our breathing
seems to be warm breezes
our bodies in
the heat of the sun
our kisses with
a burning effect
turning us into
ember
our clasped
hands, our handcuffs
like Adam and
Eve
We are like a
soul inside one body
In the middle of
greenery
We are together.
This is our
fantasy, actually, I always talked about it…
in the lonely
beaches,
on the hot, very
hot sand grains
in your hands
the waves
licking off the beach
on our toes
calls of
seagulls, our romantic music
the sky is our
blanket
there is no time
concept!
all the times
happen to be ours
we,
two crazy lovers
making love in
the middle of the greenery.
this is our
fantasy…
our breathing
seems to be warm breezes
our bodies in
the heat of the sun
our kisses with
a burning effect
turning us into
ember
our clasped
hands, our handcuffs
like Adam and
Eve
we are like a
soul inside one body
In the middle of
greenery
we are together
this is our
fantasy.
English
Translation By Mesut Şenol
(...)
Time is rolling
in between my hands like rolling your own.
My eyes stretch
out to clouds to get rains.
I tend to forget
in which season I am.
In which season
the scent of the soil is so pleasant.
In which season
does my lemon flower blossom
If only clouds
would pour their tears into my eyes, and I would breath the scent of the soil
in.
What’s the
point…
My heart used to
be a bird struggling in its cage for a point of light it had seen.
©Leyla IŞIK
2014 ESSAY(S) A Letter per day – excerpt
English
Translation By Mesut Şenol
LEYLA IŞIK
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