Poetic Economics by Erdal Alova

June is the month I feel the coldest
Perhaps because I was born in June
I fell in love at age four
At thirteen I wrote poems
I was a boarder deeply in love
In my eyes violet flowers
I memorized all the works of the night
I was a Phoenix of poetry
I rose from my ashes whenever consumed
I poisoned my roses and cried over them
For love I crossed a thousand mountains
I was Narcissus
From my reflection in the marigold I almost died
It was the year of solitude AD
I drowned between the land and sea

translated by Suat Karantay

Lyrics (4) by Sina Akyol

Stay here. In the noon courtyard.

Settle down at the simple language of time.

Take an interest in horizon-watching.

Experiment with the blue, the white, and the day.

Appreciate the oleander! Surprise me
by murmuring “It’s poison is the ointment
I apply to my skin.”

Try to translate
those feverish insects of August
and their sweaty songs into Turkish.

Learn the rather rich
styles of
washing the courtyard, pruning the vine,
walking barefoot.

Stay here. With the enduring time.
In the noon courtyard.

Absolve from your body. Strip
until you are your own self.

Pour refreshing water over your head.

Sleep soundly.

translated by Suat Karantay