Ece Ayhan / KILIÇ
The seas of vagabondage. The octopus beached on the
shore of unhappiness. My son is a queen. He has spread
his wings. Wrapt himself in taffeta. He forgets his father
was burnt as a sorcerer. He winters in Salonica.
He talks to a woman. Of Misrayim. A purple horse,
his tiredness without fault. Falls asleep among the rocks.
Why the sea rises, no one knows. O sunken ships, O
black shimmers of exile! I am a weeping half-breed.
Pessimism is an untellable sword I carry round my
waist.
ECE AYHAN
trans. MURAT NEMET-NEJAT
Ece Ayhan - diğer şiirleri
KILIÇ - Ece Ayhan
The seas of vagabondage. The octopus beached on the
shore of unhappiness. My son is a queen. He has spread
his wings. Wrapt himself in taffeta. He forgets his father
was burnt as a sorcerer. He winters in Salonica.
He talks to a woman. Of Misrayim. A purple horse,
his tiredness without fault. Falls asleep among the rocks.
Why the sea rises, no one knows. O sunken ships, O
black shimmers of exile! I am a weeping half-breed.
Pessimism is an untellable sword I carry round my
waist.
ECE AYHAN
trans. MURAT NEMET-NEJAT
Ece Ayhan - diğer şiirleri
KILIÇ - Ece Ayhan
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