“How Beautiful, My Queen,” he said
How beautiful you are, my love.
I see your hands traversing rain’s curtains,
those silvery fixtures
more supple than the prancing Firebird ...
I see your hands searching through night’s hair
for the tiny, roaming, fragile stars
whose golden rustling
disturbs the big silence ...
How beautiful you are, my love.
I see your hands wandering over snowy slopes,
leaving two blue traces
like those left by sleighs ...
Your hands depart with summer.
They leave fluidly,
like two cranes with open beaks,
until they vanish ...
Güzelsin Sevgilim Benim
Yağmurun perdesini ellerin geçer,
Okşar gülüm damlaları ellerin,
Ellerin incedir Anka'nın sekişinden.
Güzelsin, sevgilim benim.
Arıyor ellerin gecenin saçlarında