>oiktozian: Alper Coşkun
Title of The Work: Tanyeli
Original Title: Tanyeli
I wake up one night,
I wake up sweating blood.
There are no words to say
Or I can’t make sense of it.
Mourning stops the scorpion,
The scorpion is the minute hand.
And thoughts one by one,
It dulls the anticipation.
I’m running in a hurry.
How to get rid of this trouble?
Then I snatch the pen from the table;
And the paper and the night and the sadness…
I dip my pen into the night.
Then I write, what difference does it make?
I write of love, of longing.
Like prisoners waiting for freedom,
I’m writing about dreaming a dream.
I write of your departure, your only memory.
Not from my mind, but from me.
I ask the pen, “Why?”
It is silent,
I write…
The paper gets wet from time to time.
Apparently even my pen,
She can’t hold back her tears.
I want to write a single poem;
Maybe short or meaningless.
I dip my pen into the night for the last time
And the stars dance on paper
A downpour, I say.
“The downpour is taking this city
And not even the cobblestones in the station want me.
Tanyeli caresses my conscience softly
And not even the rain hides my tears
You’re leaving and I can’t keep up,
My hopes are falling out of my pockets.
You hop on the train, the 9:15 train
An Istanbul passes through your eyes… ”
