Her and Me

Sait Faik Abasiyanik
Turkish
1906 – 1954

 

I am running towards you in a boat

to not to die, not to go insane…
to live; to live far away from all the expectations
to live…
It is not warm the memory of her lips; no, it is not;
Not the scent of her hair
None of that.
In days like these, when the world is trembling with tempests
I cannot do without her.
Her hand has to be in mine,
I have to look at her eyes,
Have to hear her voice.
We have to eat together
And sometimes laugh.
I do not, I cannot do without her.
You my ugly girl,
You my bread, my poison;
My flavor, my sleep.
I cannot do without you!

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