swap words

swap words                   

 

 

I called out by my clear voice

         on the even and smooth flow of the river:

                  

my tongue! the painter bird!                  

no formats of the feelings                  

make my dreams colorful                   

 

over there a man                   

with thin and talented fingers                    

making amphoras                  

 

where can we keep the words                  

if everything flows?                  

 

if you’re a poet, you’re a tailor                  

no matter if with your feelings                  

you jump into the river once more                  

or cloth out in pattern

 

only if I had left myself into the flood of the feelings,

         would I not have been so dirty

 

while the things making                   

love with the words                   

the feelings with the things                  

‘I could’ve looked more beautiful and younger                    

         with magic formula of skin cream’, and me, too!

         

I run out of poems if I give up feelings                  

the scissors opens wide if I handle them.

 

what a terrible swap !

               

İlyas Tunç                   

Translated from Turkish by Leonard Durso