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Cafer Turaç (1959-….) Writing On The River Bank
I want to write something again, new things that are not cursed I want to write about the river’s daughter, her river kissing lips My heart becomes a fugitive pigeon, harvest is a wind, it leaves golden lights on my coat, I give myself to the city And butterflies heavy with dew drops make face pale, sick girls, blind guards Later, I watched mail-trains and the broken language of telephones Good-bye my children, good-by my wife while I was asking them not to forget me Our eyes become blurry, like the beloved’s photo threown on wet grass Oh Child, oh daughter of the river, put forth your request, wound a heart. Carry a basket of apricot-flowers to this aged sky. (Translated by Mevlut Ceylan, 101Poems by 101Poets An Anthology of Turkish Poetry)
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