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Poetry

Sacrifice

By Küçük Iskender
Translated from Turkish by Murat Nemet-Nejat

I bought you a lampshade today
just the tip of my mind baltimore
or an open-doored green Chevrolet,
registered a masterpiece
sacrifice is the tape you play
wayward toward the shore
all around us angelhoods, in blood cleaning
at each other’s throats, hanging on each others’ calls

I wrote you a letter today,
more than trivialities,
talking of roses
the anxiety of turning into a rose
can’t you remember I bitched,
wept
left and right cigarettes lit, burnt out
each drag starts with “my love,”
no more, fragments fragments
of paper soul
rocks of cocaine bliss
a winter piece came into me
with your drip of blood within
we went
sacrificing today
my wrist still sweet and flowing
a temporal drip
a love chat not talked about
bodies abused
feisty squirrels meeting on a limb
the lips, the lips trembling
the glowworm which hits nothing and disappears
the wonder phantasma which hit my mind and disappeared
our love
pieces of soul and love which hit and disappeared
the hand of the teen-cutesy god which appears and moves on my white and wet forehead
in the middle of my life the first time I came, reaming of dying
oh, readjust slowly my wet forelock,
I bought you a lampshade today, wrote you a letter,
to you, I say . . . a lampshade and letter
for you I died today no one else
That green Chevy, open doors
in your cassette sacrifice by Elton John
on my palm a pink alliance ring
fragments, of fog and bliss which hit and disappear,
yours and mine collected we anted
into time
and you and I thinking we are a mere thing
fretting on the fact
like a feather, approaching you
like a feather touching and startling you
then
then ebbing away . . .

By arrangement with the author. Translation copyright 2008 by Murat Nemet-Nejat. All rights reserved.

English

I bought you a lampshade today
just the tip of my mind baltimore
or an open-doored green Chevrolet,
registered a masterpiece
sacrifice is the tape you play
wayward toward the shore
all around us angelhoods, in blood cleaning
at each other’s throats, hanging on each others’ calls

I wrote you a letter today,
more than trivialities,
talking of roses
the anxiety of turning into a rose
can’t you remember I bitched,
wept
left and right cigarettes lit, burnt out
each drag starts with “my love,”
no more, fragments fragments
of paper soul
rocks of cocaine bliss
a winter piece came into me
with your drip of blood within
we went
sacrificing today
my wrist still sweet and flowing
a temporal drip
a love chat not talked about
bodies abused
feisty squirrels meeting on a limb
the lips, the lips trembling
the glowworm which hits nothing and disappears
the wonder phantasma which hit my mind and disappeared
our love
pieces of soul and love which hit and disappeared
the hand of the teen-cutesy god which appears and moves on my white and wet forehead
in the middle of my life the first time I came, reaming of dying
oh, readjust slowly my wet forelock,
I bought you a lampshade today, wrote you a letter,
to you, I say . . . a lampshade and letter
for you I died today no one else
That green Chevy, open doors
in your cassette sacrifice by Elton John
on my palm a pink alliance ring
fragments, of fog and bliss which hit and disappear,
yours and mine collected we anted
into time
and you and I thinking we are a mere thing
fretting on the fact
like a feather, approaching you
like a feather touching and startling you
then
then ebbing away . . .

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