Posted: 07 December 2011 in AYTEN MUTLU
Tags: , , , ,

In a place where your dreams are lost, where your heart’s burnt into ashes
I am caressing the very beginning,
that bursting demon, the reply of the silence
the shuddering substance is calling me to the deadend
a flower is blooming slowly and silently
one who is madly in love with the sky
just before the rain, that ancient balance
the scattered souls are shivering
just after visiting a graveyard, that scream without any coast
the inside of my bones getting all wet

the dead who are prayed for
the dead who are not prayed for
the happy-go-lucky feast of larva
the nestling of the sparrow is falling down the nest
the web-like membrane is wrapping up the memory of time
the eye lids of the sleepless seed ar heavy
an underground maddness
is kissing my heart

was it only because of the broken lines of life
because of the orchards that we walked in
the crops
how can the song of the siren of nonexistence be answered

the shuddering substance is calling me to the deadend
an abandoned train is frightened of being lost
one that is lost among straight lines
each wave is at the narrow beach of the soul
testing itself at the precipitous cliffs

I became the motherland, not the lover
my misdeeds ran before me, faster and faster
how shall I wake up my soul so darkened
says one of the dead
to whom should I ask
where and who I am

so good for the dead not to question
the dead with yellow voices
the freesia that blooms in the moon
the guardians of the graveyard flowers
have all forgotten the red
being cold

what kind of a freedom is this?
your dreams, all lost, where your heart is burnt into ashes
at noon, in the graveyard, just before the darkness
I am caressing the devil, the one who is weeping
one more flower is withering with a rumbling sound
not caring about the tranquility of the dead

[Translated into English by Aysu ERDEN]


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