The haze over the sea
is sleeping a dark sleep.
Minutes are frozen where they are.
Nothing is moving forward in time.
Not even the minarets.

I step away from the window to go back to bed
but I see my body is already there lying next to you
with a face as if I am dreaming a thread-like dream.
I come close to my face and hear my breathing.

>The chant starts outside over the city.
The chant is a line reaching to us all the way
from another millennium.
There are rain drops on this line.
They are sad.

They are as sad as those who have devoted their lives
to keep a perfect square untouched by life
– there I hear iron chains, and screams too.
Yet, there is something else in this chant

something on the skin of the voice,
like morning dew on lovers’ sleep.
Something honest! Something that
could not be kept in the heart anymore.

The chant enters my dream
and my face wears a rare expression:
like a tear drop meeting the edge
of the mouth and the edge curves up a little
to give the slightest smile.

I get into bed
join myself
and start dreaming along.

May, 2007
Istanbul