Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Mustafa Köz

HELIX

Sounds climb the plum tree,
the sounds of noon, of evening, of night
a child’s cry, a cursing,
the sudden closing of a holy book,
a bug secretly gnawing
a dead root
the usual prayer of the seagulls at the end of noon.

Dictionary of small bells—
  Time: a mollusk with shell
   Lat.     Helix
   also see     earth, indigo blue, a river in
        the Middle East
        a fruit returning to its branch,
        an everlasting illness,
Everything is troubled like the cover of a well,
from these sounds I understand that the grass grows.

HELIX

HELIX

Sesler tırmanıyor erik ağacına,
öğlenin, ikindinin, akşamın sesleri
bir çocuk ağlaması, bir ilenme
ansızın kapanışı bir dua kitabının,
bir böceğin içten içe kemirmesi
kuru bir kökü,
martıların o bildik yakarışı, öğle sonu.

Küçük çanlar sözlüğü-
Zaman: Kabuklu bir yumuşakça
Lat. Helix
bkz. toprak, çivit mavisi, Ortadoğu’da
bir nehir
bir meyvenin dönmesi düştüğü dala,
çok uzun sürecek bir sayrılık.
Kuyu kapağı gibi sıkıntılı her şey,
seslerden anlıyorum, otların büyüdüğünü.
Close

HELIX

Sounds climb the plum tree,
the sounds of noon, of evening, of night
a child’s cry, a cursing,
the sudden closing of a holy book,
a bug secretly gnawing
a dead root
the usual prayer of the seagulls at the end of noon.

Dictionary of small bells—
  Time: a mollusk with shell
   Lat.     Helix
   also see     earth, indigo blue, a river in
        the Middle East
        a fruit returning to its branch,
        an everlasting illness,
Everything is troubled like the cover of a well,
from these sounds I understand that the grass grows.

HELIX

Sounds climb the plum tree,
the sounds of noon, of evening, of night
a child’s cry, a cursing,
the sudden closing of a holy book,
a bug secretly gnawing
a dead root
the usual prayer of the seagulls at the end of noon.

Dictionary of small bells—
  Time: a mollusk with shell
   Lat.     Helix
   also see     earth, indigo blue, a river in
        the Middle East
        a fruit returning to its branch,
        an everlasting illness,
Everything is troubled like the cover of a well,
from these sounds I understand that the grass grows.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
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