The World is crying

the words are flying one by one how complicated black and hazy Istanbul carcass smell in the air... Crow’s are walking about with their hungry screams... I am looking everywhere is dark... the lights are far away the stars have abandoned the World is crying the tip of my pencil which I have sharpened carefully is vagabond mine tearing of the torso of the pages then; never caused pain my memory slogs away with fake smiles prostitutes are circulating around me day and night moreover pulling downwards from my skirts without me being sober from last night why is this double- face? and tactful it is hard and hurtful time to time how weird... it is us who are making life hard. Poem by: Attila Elüstün 10/01/2010 Bayrampaşa-Istanbul Translation by: Günsel Djemal 10/01/2010 London