THE SEA



In my room by the seashore,

I can tell without going to the window

That the boats sailing outside

Are carrying a cargo of watermelons.



Just the way I used to.

The sea likes to hold its mirror

Across the ceiling of my room:

It likes to make me angry.



The smell of seaweed

And the fishing-ground poles pulled ashore

Remind the children who live by the sea

Of nothing at all.

Autore: Orhan Veli Kanık