On the Quay
It was a white ship separating them
The woman was on the deck, and the man on the quay
I still remember the man’s eyes
His long eyelashes were wet
Like knives dirty with blood
The man was sorrowful, the man was ruined
It would take only a touch to make him cry
The man was tired, he was in love
The ship was departing, leaving behind the grief
Why didn’t the quay melt at that moment?
It must be because it was made of stone
Then, a whistle was blown all of a sudden
The white ship got smaller and smaller
There was a man on the quay
Left alone with his terrible loneliness
– Yaşar Oğuzcan –