As If Death Where A Daily Rountine

İlhan BERK

AS IF DEATH WERE A DAILY ROUTINE

The road keeps winding. Eventually we stopped there.
Through the open door we saw her,
sitting there spinning wool

A wooden spindle in her hand.
A large ball of yarn had rolled over and stopped there.
At the threshold we extended our heads:
"How are you?" we said. As if

changing the place of a chair
"I'm simply dying!" she said,
without raising her head.

As if death were a daily routine.

A wind kept beating the sea before her
Which she sometimes raised her head to see.

Translated by Suat Karantay