The Divan of Lost Things Kayip Seyler Divani
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Having collected some memories, the blues of Al-Magrib, I settle. Having lost a tempest, I salt. Having discarded some winds, I swoon. The city, metal noised and smoked, is muted with my thoughts. And the faces of old women with eyes of changing colours sit in their windows, a sea passes them slow. Bazi hatiralar toplamisken, Magribin mavisi, yerlesirim. Bir firtinayi kaybetmisken, tuzlanirim. Bazi rüzgarlardan kurtulmusken, bayilirim. Sehrin metal gürültüsü ve isi bogulur düsüncelerimle. Ve yasli kadinlarin yüzleri degisen renkleriyle gözleri cam kenarinda oturur, deniz usulca gecer ...
Having collected some memories, the blues of Al-Magrib, I settle. Having lost a tempest, I salt. Having discarded some winds, I swoon. The city, metal noised and smoked, is muted with my thoughts. And the faces of old women with eyes of changing colours sit in their windows, a sea passes them slow. Bazi hatiralar toplamisken, Magribin mavisi, yerlesirim. Bir firtinayi kaybetmisken, tuzlanirim. Bazi rüzgarlardan kurtulmusken, bayilirim. Sehrin metal gürültüsü ve isi bogulur düsüncelerimle. Ve yasli kadinlarin yüzleri degisen renkleriyle gözleri cam kenarinda oturur, deniz usulca gecer onlardan.
