The deep gray of rain-laden clouds
Has painted the entire sky
A struggle unfolds above
Denying passage to the light
That persists in trying to break through
Like an artist shifting from one canvas to the next
Skillful hands brush color across the horizon
The sea, too, has donned the morning’s fashion
Dressed in shades of lead, with a purple scarf
The city lies drowsy in its Sunday slumber
Only a low, distant rumble stirs the air
On a rooftop across the way, two pigeons
Are lost in an earnest, deep conversation
Doves coo, a soft, rhythmic refrain
I have news to share, a cup of strong, dark tea
And a longing that simply will not be tamed
Taking the clouds by the arm
I have surrendered my wings to the wind
October 2019, Istanbul
English Translation by Mesut Şenol