To my Ayse

And it was you with long fingers
Pointed soft open pouring phosphorescence
On the lines
My pen;
Making me write poem
Kissable hands

And it was you
Speaking dumb
Were the dreams of the blind?
The hollow in my heart
until now...
Wanted but couldn’t see
Your feather hands

And it were you
And it was your desire, like a breeze
You were the wind in my hair
You wanted to come
And were innocent baby
.../you are mine
And it was you

One/unique
Had intention to go
Determined not to return
Although you are far away
This is the reason you are still with me
You have made me happy
And honored

Now I am at that village
Confused, fearful, mad
...You/are mine
And you are courageous

Poem by: Atilla Elustun 11.09.2005 Taksim-Istanbul
Translation by: Gunsel Djemal