Poems by Leyla Işık
Translated by Ali Osman TEZCAN
Petra’s slow kisses
A phaeton is passing at the midpoint of tha age
Its wheels are turning like” the moment”
My soul is on the travel to future ages and redness of the Sun
The wind is blwing its magic pipe
at antique PETRA which is THAMUD’ s lost city
While the history is meeting at its dusty rosie rockies.
Becoming a bird I am winging to the furthest of furthermosts;
winging by suffering from manifold of difficulties
but also in exspectations.
The altars and also gigantic temples
Devoted to God Dusara
welcome me at the structure of velvety rockies…
While Al-Khazneh was hidden in the rocks
It awakened after hundreds of years
When traveler Jahann Burckhardt comes.
Just to defy The Sun that steals water
the soil touches to water
by the fact that rare rain glides an leaks into desert sands
A branch shoots up into its greenery.
Leaf smiles to ligt…
Vermilion deliberate horses rear up to their uninterrupted depeats
Nebateans’ tears glide from tample eaves…
Water gets dirty.
Stone sculpture glances
Transform into centuries in the dreams of Bedouin children…
Sunsets that naked for mystery time
in the buried treasure of sufferes sorrows
stertch to As-Siq from the blue of the sky.
Petra’s slow kisses turn into golden yellow from red
while saying farewel to the antique city