Tea

Gülten AKIN

TEA

The sound of nightingales, of ripening strawberries
the weak morning tea
in his hand extended towards me
the incited ease
but we got used to living like culprits
where, oh, where should one hide it

Our souls which he closed we closed tightly
touched one another (for the first time?)
flattening out the sea vanished
in a dream we were, if it weren't for the sound of the boats of fishermen

2

the mountains lilac-colored and dark
kept approaching and overcame us
we were lost we were in the lost country
we touched
the silence with the wing of a sparrow

we denounced
the sky, the heavy clouds, the bay
we denounced that which sank and vanished
the evening, going past the old voices of the neighbors
drew us in
with the taste of yogurt and apple

Translated by Suat Karantay