From a letter
You with vines like this for a waist,
I frown that my hand, my tongue would touch
the rings of vines that start to bear
their solid, moist grapes.
When you were your own lover, before
you ever belonged to another,
your lips would kiss in the water
the reflection of your lips,
the foam of the sun recalls you,
the sun I now embrace;
this cloud abducts and carries you
away from fish, which swim away.
You bear wings from the birds
your body comes to touch.
Why should my heart climb
to my mouth, my insides rise
like eyes that spin towards you?
Mektup'tan by Ercüment Behzat Lav
Translated September 26, 2020