From out-
side it looks as if it inscribes a circle but when time comes to close back in from whence it came suddenly it retracts both ends of the line and darts inside.
A bungalow.
Shape of shapes.
You see it resembles nothing other than itself.
But if we must compare it to something, then let’s say a restless water drop.
(Armoured, solid, luminous)
In a shell as thin as a membrane and so strong, transparent
A spiral
When you touch its shell with your forefinger:
– Ping!
you’ll hear a sound. Or
— Crack!
when it’s broken.
When you take it and look at it in your hand you’ll see it creates a spiral bandage which wraps its beautiful shell like a ball.
(Fast growing and discarded.)

from The Book of Things (2009), translated by George Messo

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

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