Perhaps I too am Prose

Your face is a street leading down to the sea,
It’s a crossroads, your face is a water clock

Whenever I bend down to your face
It’s a market opening early

You are a lily without rhyme or metre
White I breathe upon you deep blue

As if I were working on a long poem
Your face conferred its longest rhymes

And who knows what your face rubs off
Perhaps I too am prose


İlhan Berk
Translated by George Messo


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Filed under Art, ilhan Berk, Poetry of the Middle East, Turkish Poetry, World Literature

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