The ones who flee their void
go to another one to get drowned
have some midmornings bleed
the ones who venture roads and roses, mistaken
go down to the waters to lean
go down indeed… yet getting drowned
what is being looked for at the home of an armless man
The ones who flee their own depths
go for drowning somebody else
like rivers side by side
gently call on the memories
smartened up gray hair as black disappears
The ones who flee their own voice’s chill
let them hold themselves, it snows in a little while
let the snow hold itself… yet to feel a chill
what is being looked for at a man of a burnt home
Translated by Mesut Senol