Some love ends, starts again,
Some bitter-sweet tastes stay in the mouth.
A sun that touches love does not easily set.
The thousand candles of its candelabra are lit,
The windows of its celestial palace catch fire.
And one summer evening,
In the violet breath of honeysuckle like burning incense,
It waits on its balcony facing your garden,
In the scent of its climbing red roses,
Among sadness and hibiscus.
There are days, moments that never end!
Having absorbed such light from your love,
Suddenly, with another beautiful face, they have broken away
From the Great River, separated from the bunch.
They rain with the early summer showers
And yearning blossoms wild flowers in your garden.
They are eternal days fed with nothing.
Timeless doves that cannot fly,
Pristine meadows beyond this world,
Another season, another bough, another fruit.
In ecstasy are those who step on the soil, taste the fruit.
The pitcher fills with honey, the unlockable lock
Opens, almond trees blossom,
Wisdom and joy embrace the heart.
A white cloud awaits above you,
Birds land, motion suddenly ends,
Not a sound in the universe, you are there,
Pond, tree, sea, all for you.
Light for you. You turn down the sun,
Set fire to the sky. Later,
In a small, shadeless, limpid garden, pretending to be silent,
You remember, like a photograph taken far away,
The day you lost yourselves in mysteries.
Oktay Rifat (1914-1988). Bir Aşka Vuran Güneş. Translated from the Turkish.
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