But whenever I think of myself
you appear by my side in the form of a silence
We swallow the light.
A rose garden, think of it, in the middle of the desert.
You touch that place with your wound,
The desert softens somewhat.
At that moment, right at that moment
Like taking a copper tray, hanging it on the wall
you think of me with fresh new eyes, love me.
You create me anew.
Should we name this thing? You decide.
But whenever an alarm clock goes off
here and there in places that I cannot hear,
you become a ringing thing,
Like a nun thinking of renewing her vows,
you say 'Welcome' to the greatness of living.
You give form to water.
Is this what they call surface tension?
With a strange love you open your mouth,
might regret that some things don't work out.
With these eyes that come from
when you first began to love me -
their depth, the burden of meaning -
With these things I say, 'Love me.
- İlhan Sami Çomak
Translated by Caroline Stockford
