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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-05-27 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
As if never lived
The sun will not rise Beloved will not come And troubled dark/night I’m waiting My pen is one mother in labor And doubled up with pain Between my fingers Cannot write down the lines I’m thinking My loneliness indecisive I’m waiting The clouds Were like a child suffering from the whooping-cough Sobbing mixed with the cough Eyes full of cloudburst You hold my dreams/naked I’m waiting When I kissed from your lips Smelt the soil With the taste of lawn I’m waiting Like a century old plane tree Clinging to the soil with its hands We were suppose to embrace It didn’t graft we couldn’t make it I had made a promise Don’t forget Where the sun kisses the horizon My brain is a triggered gun My heart is a bullet I’m waiting. Poem by: Atilla Elustun 12/9/2009 Emirgan-Taksim Translation by: Gunsel Djemal London
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