To the poet Enver Ercan[1]
The star in which you live
is a sun of the nights when the white poppies bloom.
The white poppies, the white poppies in the petals of which
the fragments of the time crushed by the wheels
of a cursed morning have nested.
Time, the time which was supposed
to germinate close to your breath
has turned into dew drops
and now smooths out the way
drawn upon the mantle of your name…
In the trail of my footsteps
it is only the red poppies that bloom:
the mantle of your name is the map in my heart,
and you,
you are a blossoming field
of white poppies and red poppies.
[1] Outstanding Turkish poet (21.01.1958 – 22.01.2018).