Onur Caymaz

Yellow Notebook

old dervishes in old tales

the colors the loves the torn notebooks
notebooks are long trees of loneliness

under your skirt most of the time . . .

in this pain I was like a blazing palace
turning ashen, I am as tired as my life

secret smiles of a child

half-open balcony doors
the loves whose doors
are closed as fast as time

a thousand years of exhaustion is mine.

     Translator: Tozan Alkan

e-mail the poet at onur.caymaz@grey.com.tr
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