The Station

Melih Cevdet ANDAY

THE STATION

An unknown evening hour
of a station with an age-old platform, sadness
By my side, I knew no direction.

I had left you up there, in the sky,
Dark were the trees and the road,
Dark were your white clothes.

The night, that treasure, foreign stone,
Your window was above the trees,
No voice or iron can save me now.

Here I am at the hours,
The hours are nowhere, no
Not in this direction, not in that,

I had left you up there, in the sky.

Translated by Şehnaz Tahir