I blend into the voice of a city
the stone pavement chills the morning.
Time, suspended in shop windows,
glances at me for a fleeting moment.
This walk has no designated stop
the streets reveal themselves to me.
Every street corner is a question mark
its answer, broken, rests in my pocket.
A window opens within me,
its curtain conversing with the wind.
Sometimes, to “leave”
is simply to multiply where you stand.
I write your name nowhere,
Don’t let the maps disrupt what’s committed to memory.
Often, a single glance suffices
sentences are merely a crowd.
Evening slips quietly into my bag
a bit of light, a touch of weariness.
What we call “tomorrow”
is a word yet to be spoken.
I keep that word tucked away,
to be brought out when the moment calls.
As the world passes me by,
I am learning how to stand still.
English Translation by Mesut Şenol