I am coming together in the sediment of the water scratching your face
like the image and tense
blooming there the way a died soil comes into flower
I watch the dissolution
in the melody of the wait
I keep quiet so nicely
in the compassionate palms of the day
by becoming clogged through the unexpected momentum
of the matter and migration
I wake up to see you in my countryside
I am the writing and the mist
that swept your mom towards her childhood
I am growing up breathlessly in the amulet
of the night
I am handling roughly again
the early delight you blessed
English Translation by Mesut Şenol