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Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
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I am going berserk...
running images; with my tramp memorization at the edge of my pen time is searching for rhyme at verses at the edge of my pen rickety... hangover... knocks on the doors of my eyes my brain is far away can not control dreams are at the deep end with every movement more and more sinks into dead end aching heart the night is pitch-dark it’s not going to light up this trembles my tongue panicking not to arose for the day If I talk; the words will fall into the abyss my tired body had done hard labour more than the ants... can not lift up where it collapsed If I can escape into myself Oh... If I can get away from myself Cosmos confederated burden on my shoulders If I can tear it into pieces and reunite. Poem by: Attila Elüstün15.12.2009 Taksim-Istanbul Translation by: Gunsel Djemal-Bromley Road- London
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