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in this issue
NEW TURKISH POETRY
Autumn© Seçil Yaylali
The past will always inspire melancholy
The trail of a falling star
That never arrives
The trace that remains on a stone when touched
Scents of times past
O, winds
Autumn
There it remains, the past
As if reflected on water
Like a stone, impossible to
Store time in your palm
Melancholy is good
Whenever my absent-minded eyes drift into a dream
Melancholy is good
Untitled
Time sets the hair of night aflame
Blood of the sand in my eyes
I become an entity sitting on the sofat
An opal tiger passes trough me
I'm sad and rotten
Like a cart,
with weeds entangled in its wheels
Our home faces the forest
I lost the game again
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