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Cemal Süreya


The Wild Slang Of The Heart

You were a child, you were yet to bring

The untidy voice of your scattered words

Into the wholeness of light.

This is what perhaps drove you,

Leaving your shadow behind like a blue cover,

To walk into pictures taken by willows.


And you felt in your bruised eyes

Lime-trees, warm as prophets.


Thus started the long flowing

Of that first,

That prestigious,

That illiterate



It was poetry in a way:

The wild slang of the heart


It was frienship in a way,

It could feel

The lute, drop by drop,

Taking shape

In the pebble.

(Translated by Feyyaz Kayacan Fergar, 101Poems by 101Poets An Anthology of Turkish Poetry)