Guest: Yağmur Mavi Şen
Title of The Work: Placeless
Original Title: Yer;siz
Genre: Poetry
It still smells;
The wind from my open window, summer and winter.
It prepares Tuesdays, Sundays
It fastens my loneliness to an old frame.
It closes my window, locks the door twice.
I pass through the stars, darkness surrenders yesterday.
My path narrows, my desolation full of bumps.
Those behind me, those who want to stay behind me,
I’m glad you don’t exist.
Little blue eyes with rooster candy, I transfer my hope to your days.
I won’t know you when you grow up,
I can’t recognize you.
So be it; whether it exists or not
I have a long route.
I have to hold your hand.
Still, I got up and took some medicine.
I took some pills
painkillers large and small.
They relieve my heart palpitations.
Gülden Karaböcek accompanies my journey
“What good are my broken hands, my youth is gone, I can’t hold it;
God has given me tired feet, I can’t run after my fortune.”
… I live in days with no tomorrow.
Expectations are zero, desires are knee-deep.
My eyes are ashamed to dream,
only at night.
I resent no one.
I cry out to myself,
I cover my ears with my hands.
My futile effort ends in futility.
The road ends, my recklessness doesn’t end again.
…
I see children rolling a ball, their shirts clean, their shoes dusty.
I wish them success.
They walk past you with their hands in their pockets.
The person who will never know you will never know you.
Let this day pass and be over.
What difference was it from yesterday?
Will tomorrow be another day?
…
The ones I couldn’t fit in my heart;
I couldn’t enter your street.
The ones you couldn’t fit in your heart,
She couldn’t get out of her street
