Guest: Yağmur Mavi Şen
Title of The Work: Everything That Happens is a Harbinger of the Next Day
Original Title: Yaşanacak Her Şey Bir Sonraki Günün Habercisiymiş
Genre: Poetry
Everything that happens is a harbinger of the next day;
I didn’t know, or we didn’t know, the strength of the winds that blow the calendars.
The days of that savagery that would come unaware of the desolation of your absence…
Your longing will consume my paths,
The recklessness of steps that drag you as if they were your address…
While I was wishing for you, I realized that my days would pass without you.
yesterday’s foreshadowing of your declaration,
denied the love of my being
the echo of my unheard ears,
that my pupil’s tongue
did not speak of the small-big departure.
My face is silent, my self is withdrawn to miserable days.
He has not tasted the existence of frustrated slopes,
as if the artificial flower has come to life and opened its eyes to the world.
the kicked stone on the asphalt,
He knew you and whispered you to the hour and minute hands
A pillow and a quilt that knows you
He’s talking about you in his mouth
A dream of you in his heart and mind
He raised you in the palm of his hand
He hugged you – his nothingness as if embracing the sky
Not even nothingness could fill the place of any being
Only the lips that remember you are left,
a heart palpitations left for you in the night
And the words spoken to you remain in my mind
And your departure that consumes love on the road
He searched in dead ends,
in the confusion of dead ends.
He searched for you again in the labyrinth of narrow streets.
The seagulls of the city cried out and screamed your departure,
You’ve made me deaf to you.
When the stars show me you,
one by one you have closed my future with your hands…
My future is no longer coming to you.
It has silenced the seagulls.
The stars have stolen my darkness.
My darkness has surrendered to a bitter light.
My soul, which knows only you, is stuck in the most secluded hole of the ruins in your absence.
Yusuf could not get out of the wells
My unseen vortex
My knot that cannot be untied
the harsh afternoons without you.
In the shining streets of the city left without you
the coffees are opened for me in the morning wind.
Have the dawns shed their light on me or on my heart?
In the captivity of this city I can’t leave
My body is in captivity, every fiber of my being is counting you.
Everything has disappeared in the cover of night,
Suddenly everything happened and suddenly my body disappeared.
You are the only one left alive…
I raised your eyes and hands even when you had no desire to live.
You touched my heart and poured it out.
No matter what I say, no matter what I hold in captivity
My hands that can’t bring what’s gone don’t know how to hold your wrists
Suspended and stuffed, sighing,
There are scribbles left on my window, even if it rains, I could write your name with vapors.
My name doesn’t suit you – you next to me –
What is this stubbornness, what is this construction of my soul?
What more can be said about you…
to your existence that consumes words and takes on other meanings.
To your emptiness that finishes sentences and opens to love.
As I experience the existence of your departure, the plurality of your uniqueness,
-the glare of absence blinds my days.
