Here we stand at the messiest point of our time
someone should write us, if we don’t
who will
the more silence kept, the duller became
the fine knife we used
to carve out raw day
where are they, the flashing miracle
and the shining magic in every motion
one more day unseen
one more day passed withering the grass
so we learn it was blind, as if there were
no alley no passerby
no one to record the passerby
they said
lock them up, leave the key in its old place
but the truth is
it’s a shameful thing, as Camus says
to be happy on your own
voices and other voices, where are the world’s voices
the stain invaded the tissue
saying nothing saying nothing
Gülten Akin (1933 - 2015) Turkey
Translated by Cemal Demircioglu
Source: CALQUE
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