by Koray Feyiz
My eyes
grown accustomed to
looking at walls so much
they do not see anything else,
are now totally blind.
Thousands of walls seem to
rise inside myself.
There is no sky above my head,
only thousands of walls.
The hard beat
of my weak, exhausted heart,
in an enormous dream garden,
always leafing out.
And now, as if to play Russian roulette
with life,
a fire has begun. It is faint,
but dominating.
And yet sometimes,
igniting quietly,
a beam of light
will suddenly leak into the room.
It passes through that slight
air shaft under the door.
Then it descends
down to the floor
and remains in the deep.
(20 September 1980 Mamak)
Translated by Dr. Nesrin Eruysal & Prof. Dr. Kenneth Rosen
From:
Best Poems
Copyright ©:
Dr. Nesrin Eruysal & Prof. Dr. Kenneth Rosen
Last updated June 12, 2016