like tidying up the house of a person who died all alone
you shall pull yourself together
if you can manage
you shall put the book in cardboard boxes
you shall give away the flowers to the neighbors
he used to use the copper utensils
you shall casually pile up those copper items at the doorstep
pale yellow lace pillows of the sofa, and the inky spot on the table
and the rush mat at the doorstep
they remind of a life so pure and virtuous, passion-free
nobody shall lite this stove any more
the roaring sound of the fire shall not be heard
the childhood photos shall be taken out from a drawer of the dresser
the school reports, the discharge paper
and a tuft of hair from his mother
you shall be lost in thought
how was he behaving in his youth
was he taking his mom’s advice
was he drinking too much at the wedding feast of the neighbors
which girl in the neighborhood he fell in love
it is impossible
he was getting his vital power from dead
now you shall wait until the soil gets settled
come on, beg the rain
since it doesn’t have anybody around it
it doesn’t have a cyprus tree to be buried under its shade
English Translation by Mesut Şenol