Oscar Johnson refused to back off from a claim that he was born and raised in center-city Detroit, where, he said, he first learned the principles of human diplomacy. He listed them in precise order–compromise, give-‘n’-take, courtesy, magnanimity. “An’ if you still don’ get what you want,” Oscar said, “then crack the sons of bitches with a sledgehammer.” Diplomacy, he was fond of saying, is the art of persuasion; and war–never citing his sources–is simply diplomacy continued through other means. . .

Now and then like the winds I blow,
Now and then like the roads I go,
Now and then like the floods I flow,
Come, see what love has done to me.

Hold my hand, lift me from this place
Or take me into your embrace. . .
You made me weep, make me rejoice,
Come, see what love has done to me.

translated by Talat S. Halman

Don’t ask me about me: I’m not inside me–
In its robe, my body walks on, all empty.

My love for you has plucked me away from me:
What sweet pain is this? It’s beyond remedy.

translated by Talat S. Halman

The shadows of the t’ung tree, glistening and clear,
having just passed,
Bells under the eaves tinkle in the wind,
breaking off my daytime sleep.
In a dream I found myself in a painted hall with no one around,
And only a pair of swallows softly treading zither strings.

translated by Irving, Y. Lo

a glass of wine
an impromptu concert
old men on benches
grilling kebob
two dogs go swimming
a couple takes photos
spring is here
by the shore

water gently laps
against the hulls of boats
a gull floats by
on its way to heaven

sea breeze rustles my hair
friends share a laugh
on a bench
water, cold water
for sale
mussels & rice
on the half shell
skateboards & bikes
two men asleep
on the nearby grass
this stroll
soon a memory
of my life
in Kadiköy
filed away
with things
worth remembering
overshadowing things
to forget

pide and wine
a guitar a singer
dark eyes on my mind
there’ll be no sleep
this night
in kadiköy