Manastırlı Hilmi Beye Birinci Mektup

There these rains, there this balcony, there me…

There this begonia, there loneliness

There the water drops on my forehead, on my arms

There the city that is born out of my disappearance

I am moving no where, leaking only to myself

What I am is a huge hollow;

On the couch, on the reflection in the mirror

A hollow! On the table, in the kitchen, on my bed

It is like I am leading life backwards

I catch up and pass over from time to time

As to say, a season comes to an end in a couple of hours.

Good.

Is today Monday?  The state of the door and window

indicates it is Tuesday.

I sold the big clock in the living room

There is no clock that can tell any piece of time.

I am like insects that know not where they go

Really,What’s the need of time for a hollow, For a life hollowed out?

I often go out in the balcony

Walking a long, long way in there

I catch the first colour of a town

For instance I am at a tea garden in Umraniye sometimes

A path to the memories..

And a garden lingering to the memories..

Whichever leaf I pull off, the last memory is left in my palm

Good.

‘Shall we drink coffee in Yenikoy?’ I asked this morning.

this morning…this morning…

No one took notice-was it Monday?-

I was almost getting out of my hollow, and my begonia was among roses

How come?

I mean roses among roses

and a gull on the bar of the balcony. I said:

‘The sea must be somewhere around’

Not a sound in the house.

‘The sea must be somewhere around’

No sound.

It is as if all tea spots are closed

and there is a street from the sky to the hills..

Or I am a river let’s say.

And the sea is
around…