I speak to
The corpse of a dead poem
I speak to
The skin of the night
I speak to
The bare fingernails of my weak hands
I speak to
The broken mirror in my dark and empty room
I speak to
Your orderly books
I speak to
Loneliness
I speak to
The loneliness of my long shadow
But the hush feeling, silence sullen-faced fate reaches my ears
I too fall silent in the fire of silence
© Cihan Hesen. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2020 by Shook and Zêdan Xelef. All rights reserved.
