[Poem] Things I’m Tired of and Green Undershirt by Didem Madak (translated to English from Orig. Lang.)

Your eyes were a green undershirt fluttering on the balcony

An imitation of drizzle

I was tired of recounting my difficult winters

Of soaking a few flowers in a glass.

A red-edged cloud at the tip of my finger

I would extend it to you, like a drop of loneliness

A drop of blood that fell on my finger was love.

When I fell in love with you, I went to the market out of joy

I bought artichokes from the man shouting "super artichokes"

Then I sat down and cried, you were surprised.

There was something that hurt me in that "super" quality.

You were the pain in my soul.

I remembered everything just to not forget that pain.

We made love.

In the house, the footprints of thousands of pill bugs

We made love.

As if someone had emptied a dictionary full of sparkles over my head

I keep every poem that moves when I fall in love with you

In a brown teapot.

Then you left.

We were going to mothball the winter clothes together.

I promised I wouldn't forget your eyes

Like a green undershirt on the line, I would take it down and iron it.

I was going to teach everyone to say good evening to your eyes.

Then you left.

I became a child again, I cried.

How many poems, how many times did they flood.

Books, love, everything.

I couldn't save everything one last time.

I wish I had been born from a minty cloud like a peppermint candy

Then you left.

A white mold grew in the house, like snow falling upside down.

I wish the world were covered with powdered sugar.

I became a child again, then I cried, even the rain shamed me.

I promised, I made a promise.

The place where I buried my soul is still known.

I missed the sun, then you

I wish I had been a basil content with its shadow.

Then you left

Your eyes a forgotten green undershirt on the balcony

An imitation of drizzle

It has now thinned out completely.