By İlhan Sami Çomak
From Hymns Written by Cats
The dark side of the mountains
was a color jealous of blue, I knew it as such.
Like a clumsy rock, I split the air into two
I liken whistling to horses.
With a slice of bread whose surface gives meaning to heat
Among all kinds of smells
the breath of silence breaks the waves
at the first illusion devoted to water and stone
I knew it as much as rain and suns
Then I turned my head
with knots tied all wrong
I harmonized the images of moss.
At the back, a woman was braiding her hair
I saw the seas inside those braids
And constant waves
in the middle of her mouth.