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Apr 15, 2011

A Paling Rose When Touched


So many let it fall
but the passers-by don't see
I bend down and pick it up
it turns into a paling rose when touched

It sometimes wanders in busy bus-stops
in some large city
sometimes in a remote corner in the country
in a coffe-house, in a hotel
where can one go when night falls
hand in pockets
cigarettes, papers-
-and it slips unnoticed
I bend down and pick it up, nobody around
it turns into a paling rose when touched

Or it may be in the lipstick
wiped off by a lonely girl
as she puts her head on the pillow
again at the treshold of the tired night.
Sometimes it sidles to me in mid-autumn
in autumn months, most of all, when it rains
when a cloud descends, in that cloud of sorrow
I reach out and pick it up, nobody around
it turns into a paling rose when touched

In hands, in lips, in solitary writings
it gets caught in taut nets hung to the nights
panting like wounded beasts
it's cornered, wants to run away
along roads or along memories

I keep picking it up, it never sleeps a wink
and stirs whenever I touch it in the dark
it turns into a paling rose when touched

Original Poem SOLGUN BİR GÜL DOKUNUNCA 
Written by BEHÇET NECATİGİL Translated by Gün Gencer

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