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No: 102,  Septembre - Eylül - September 2018

mozart and mediterranean

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-------------------- translated by ender gürol

The image of Mozart and the Mediterranean in my pocket,
I am on my way on a violet exile
to become a tenant of mountains and rains.

I am measuring my life in terms of pains, deaths and oceans.
I’ve left endless days behind me full of affection that had revealed me;
Now, with glorious eroticism, I’m washing my wounds in the Atlantic Ocean.

I’m kissing your nipples exposed to the wind
I’m kissing your mouth the most sensual in the world.
For, I am a slave to love and to the scent of rose.

I am as though seated within a double-bass,
my body rent asunder in the poppy fields;
in all my photos rains and sorrow shower.

Mine is a sorrow carried by a yellow street-car;
its wick has the taste of the Amasya apples.
That must be the reason: a sad tune is
my face;
the cigarette between my lips is thinner than the wing of a butterfly.

How you debilitated the splendid young men in prison cells;
we died, we were exiled, but we never surrendered.

A new age is dawning from the spikes of suffering.
Come on! Geometry notebooks and color pencils!
We’ll trace a brand new sky.

Can you feel the stars breathe?
You also have a star and a little sky…
squeezed in between two streets.

A full moon color red wine
swaying to and fro between
the collars of your white shirt.
Hold it! Let your hands turn into pigeons.

The image of Mozart and the Mediterranean in my pocket,
wherever I go I am an exile;
rain and sorrow shower on in all my photographs.

And the exiles have no God.


-------------------- iç. "Mozart ve Akdeniz", Cem Yay., 1992

Last modified on Mercredi, 13 Février 2013 21:57
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