Hold My Dead Branches!
” Our new coloumnist Serpil Devrim was born in 1960 in Istanbul. Many of her poems and short stories were published in different antologies and literature magazines in Turkey, translated in different languages and published literature magazines in different countries.
We say welcome to her among us in the newspaper Notre Anatolie …”
Hold My Dead Branches!
“my soul was a door handle
Hold My Dead Branches!as my mind never matched the steps”
the brunette refugee child with otherworldly descriptions
who lands down on the cage of my chest fluttering
your face is the gap called wound this evening
your eyes were a single country, the whole earth
the insensitivity of this era is a death trap
the thundering robbery, plunder, pillage of an avalanche
with its cooperative loam the red-brown marsh
depth and the subsiding weight do go away
lacking humanity that makes it lose its way
it has no roof to wash ashore or to take shelter
in September the unhugged body the surplus of water
the iceberg drifting from where it belongs is just like you
woven for the outer world a long time ago
its fragile body lessens by moments, from which
it adds itself to the water that will drown us all
wherever I turn the speed of light is the same
one’s circle, occasionally recurring mercy sprinkle
which pours down on the sift of the sky
from a long distance
Hold my dead branches! Hold my dead branches!
let the dead leaf fall!
let my crooked branch flatten…
Serpil Devrim / Bizim Anadolu / January 30th, 2019
