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Cemal Süreya (1931-1990)
The Wild Slang Of The Heart You were a child, you were yet to bring The untidy voice of your scattered words Into the wholeness of light. This is what perhaps drove you, Leaving your shadow behind like a blue cover, To walk into pictures taken by willows.
And you felt in your bruised eyes Lime-trees, warm as prophets.
Thus started the long flowing Of that first, That prestigious, That illiterate Water.
It was poetry in a way: The wild slang of the heart
It was frienship in a way, It could feel The lute, drop by drop, Taking shape In the pebble. (Translated by Feyyaz Kayacan Fergar, 101Poems by 101Poets An Anthology of Turkish Poetry)
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