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unexpectedly
last night the moon struck ineffectively upon my window i had made a promise to the sea were going to plant phosphorescence to its bossom ashamed; to approach my pockets are empty/my hands if the fishes asked; what would i say? i had made a promise to the sea were going to embellish the waves with a clingy wet voice the arms of the dark prostitute embraced my torso i didn't care... Poem by : Atilla Elüstün 6.6.2005- Emirgan-İstanbul Translation by: Günsel Djemal-London
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