Hüzünsüz Veda Törenleri
the poet is dead
I throw away the pages of every sad yellow garden
I went on a long poem
without luggage
like digging a grave for a poet
distant july of three twisted mouths
with zılgıt and dengbêj ceremonies
I've been gnawing my long mustache for hours
covering my lower lips
passing through mountains and plains and into the clouds
By the window of a docile train that stops to salute
It's like there's no rush, nothing here
mountain, river, cloud hanging in the sky
and the patched boy laughing and waving
the villagers are coming down
Villagers are riding without handkerchiefs
unhurried as if they have been here for thousands of years
broken clocks buried in station benches
It waits for its passenger who will never come
“I once thought my grandmother was lonely”
the poet was saying
I still think my father is yellow gar
remote, abandoned
…
Publisher | : | Aryan |
Number of pages | : | 80 |
Publication Year | : | 2020 |
ISBN | : | 978-605-06045-5-9 |
Dimensions | : | 13 x 19.5 |
The heart | : | Turkish |
Üye olmadan sipariş verebildim.
Ayrıca, kargo süreci hakkında da sistem üzerinden güncel olarak bilgilendirildim.
Memnuniyet duydum.
Ayrıca pirtukakurdi olması saygıya deger bir kitap alışveriş
Sitesi.