NYU Black Renaissance Noire Fall 2013 - Page 82

By NURDURAN DUMAN City Steps My Letter is an Olive Branch TRANSLATED FROM TURKISH BY ANDREW WESSELS TRANSLATED FROM TURKISH BY ANDREW WESSELS I. only to flow a paddle in hand for no purpose in the green wind’s confusion to the joy of pain and black wells expelled from the Bosphorus i came to myself once attached to this city’s throat alone it can’t be passed from the sea the dolphin flowed into my path was it a fish a poet the first man i loved… i have learned the road knots at the estuary the cities’ loves breakups a child aged in my pack when i leave for Beyo?lu only to look straight at your eyes timid squirrels straight at your eyes’ shrinking eyelashes to empty my eyes into them like the moon like milk olive branch kindled with my mouth I am an offering to your lips I kiss your muteness II. not things loves i laid instead in your embroidered armchair narrow student houses dorm rooms many very far from the water to my water caring for another mother’s children was it a friend an enemy the first stranger i knew? i loved men and also women shaped colors into their appropriate names fed cats barking sounds roses laugh during a winter’s day III. 80 i worked in dark rooms from Maçka to Tünel coloring life a very long stage i build ships from iron passing above Fatih’s feet a city’s first steps to man… BRN-FALL-2013.indb 80 9/13/13 12:48 AM