The Journey

Oh God I have neither a house nor a garden
Nor a boat in the ocean
My head is in the pineapple-smelling clouds
My feet are in the pineapple-smelling water
I know the clouds won’t yield my expectations.
I know the ship I came on
Won’t leave with me.
After all, there
I will hear the song of unborn stars.

Translated from the Turkish


Notes:

Read the translators’ note by Hüseyin Alhas and Ulaş Özgün.

Source: Poetry (November 2024)