You dive and at the bottom of the sea a bowl: in it, a dry olive. If a sunken life rises to the surface, what ends? Time, a dream, a tree? Come away from here, from tales we know by heart, let master miniaturists draw us, let’s live in paintings, let us wake to the sound of one fountain, and share one dream. Is there a world outside the painting? Wild bitter orange trees have covered the slopes, and if you are not there in that world between bunches of black pepper and mulberry leaves, then I don’t exist. Who is right in love, how does one disappear over the horizon, are they equal, the one who stays and the one who leaves? Pass this field too, you will find another sky, damned and just, strange, like us. What a strange place this is, huge flowers touching the ground, banana trees, as if one day sorrowful sentences will break, the dark-skinned world will tremble, and return to life.
daldiginda denizin dibinde bir canak, icinde bir kuru zeytin eger batmis bir hayat su yuzune cikarsa, ne sona erer? Zaman, bir ruya, bir agac? Ordan uzaklas, kalpten bildigimiz hikayelerden, minyatur ustasinin biz cizmesine izin ver, hadi tablonun icinde yasayalim,hadi gozlerimizi akan cesme suyuyla acalim ve ruyalarimizi paylasalim. Boyanmis tablonun disinda bir dunya var mi? Vahsi aci portakal agaclari tepeleri kapladi