Poem
Mustafa Köz
HELIX
Sounds climb the plum tree,the sounds of noon, of evening, of night
a child’s cry, a cursing,
the sudden closing of a holy book,
a bug secretly gnawing
a dead root
the usual prayer of the seagulls at the end of noon.
Dictionary of small bells—
Time: a mollusk with shell
Lat. Helix
also see earth, indigo blue, a river in
the Middle East
a fruit returning to its branch,
an everlasting illness,
Everything is troubled like the cover of a well,
from these sounds I understand that the grass grows.
HELIX
HELIX
Sesler tırmanıyor erik ağacına,öğlenin, ikindinin, akşamın sesleri
bir çocuk ağlaması, bir ilenme
ansızın kapanışı bir dua kitabının,
bir böceğin içten içe kemirmesi
kuru bir kökü,
martıların o bildik yakarışı, öğle sonu.
Küçük çanlar sözlüğü-
Zaman: Kabuklu bir yumuşakça
Lat. Helix
bkz. toprak, çivit mavisi, Ortadoğu’da
bir nehir
bir meyvenin dönmesi düştüğü dala,
çok uzun sürecek bir sayrılık.
Kuyu kapağı gibi sıkıntılı her şey,seslerden anlıyorum, otların büyüdüğünü.
© 1998, Mustafa Koz
From: Sonsuzluk Taşta
Publisher: Tüm Zamanlar Yayıncılık,
From: Sonsuzluk Taşta
Publisher: Tüm Zamanlar Yayıncılık,
Poems
Poems of Mustafa Köz
Close
HELIX
Sounds climb the plum tree,the sounds of noon, of evening, of night
a child’s cry, a cursing,
the sudden closing of a holy book,
a bug secretly gnawing
a dead root
the usual prayer of the seagulls at the end of noon.
Dictionary of small bells—
Time: a mollusk with shell
Lat. Helix
also see earth, indigo blue, a river in
the Middle East
a fruit returning to its branch,
an everlasting illness,
Everything is troubled like the cover of a well,
from these sounds I understand that the grass grows.
From: Sonsuzluk Taşta
HELIX
Sounds climb the plum tree,the sounds of noon, of evening, of night
a child’s cry, a cursing,
the sudden closing of a holy book,
a bug secretly gnawing
a dead root
the usual prayer of the seagulls at the end of noon.
Dictionary of small bells—
Time: a mollusk with shell
Lat. Helix
also see earth, indigo blue, a river in
the Middle East
a fruit returning to its branch,
an everlasting illness,
Everything is troubled like the cover of a well,
from these sounds I understand that the grass grows.
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