Whenever
I sit at a table
to write something to you
I think of the tightrope performers
of my childhood and
all of a sudden
the pen in my hand
gets longer and longer
like that balance-stick
and I soon
unlike that masterful tightrope performer
more like an inexperienced clown
fall down into the void
and start jumping
in the bouncing net of dreams
Then
with the laughter
of my invisible spectators
I try to crawl
in a dry sea of tears

translated by Zeynep Bağcı & Suat Karantay