bugenvil

I am at fall true to its name
no one eye cathches the other, glaring
four-o’clocks at cobbled streets
through never-ending roads, wandering

moon is descending, uh, pain sending
sea, sandal and fire at stars
moon is down, oh moon is down
a rose smells indecently in my garden.

Translated by Leyla Belma GAZİ

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