A Brief Moment of Happiness

Ahmet OKTAY

A BRIEF MOMENT OF HAPPINESS

The moth conversing with the lamp light,
the sea has long leaked under the door,
is now intoxicated in the porch. It's only
a moment: the kind of happiness that comes
after the rain pouring through the vine;
in this mortal fief. While you reach
to your glass, your wife says, "I saw death in your
cup this morning". Ah, no shore
can defeat time,
still alive, as alive as ever
is the pain of fire. The sinking day
still distills a vision,
whichever florist you stop by
spreads upon you the smell of graveyard;
when you think you're safe you're closer,
the beach wets your feet, yet
the night is still full of the howls of
the flood. The eyes of the tortured
is no dream, no dream. You lived
like a summer's end: the bus stops under open fire,
you have born the taste of the water from the well
in your mouth since yesterday; and strolling inside you
is the gloomy voice of a Koran night.
It's only a moment: in this fight
you never know if it's the past
burning out the future. You put the glass down,
hold your wife by the hand; "History
you say-is irresistible. And everything hints death
in a time of defeat".

You blow out the lamp.

Translated by Şehnaz Tahir