Threewells Street

A whole long day I watched the sea. Great sea.
Storms gathered in. I sat and chiseled out

a skiff. A road lapped its way to the sea,
later going down behind Pazardağ. Barely seen.

A Greek ship off shore was slowing, putting anchor down.
Aganta! I shouted suddenly. The sea echoed back.

The city was water. Water everywhere. Water, water, water.
I threw a fish into the air and the skiff bowed under me.

– The day’s shortened, air sharp as a knife! I said.
Then I got up and headed off for Threewells Street.


İlhan Berk
Translated by George Messo


Taken from İkinci Yeni: The Trukish Avant-Garde, 2009, published by Shearsman Books.

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

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