Famine Poem by Metin Sahin

Jackal..howled with a long breath into the air
and wove into the night its voice like a tolling knell
wavering from the mountains onto the plains

it is a few days away entering june
fading yellow rubbed its back against the ears of the wheats
dropping them from their long..lean stems

the water once flowing in abundance with high noise
which ground the wheat into flour went somewhere and
diminished from the water ways
the milk of the mountain fig lost
the dog grass did not grow hid themselves in their roots
the white meat of the shah cock weighing many kilos
exhausted and melted itself own
till down
for the first time
a faded ear of wheat in the middle of the plain
saw far awaythe rainless approaching white cloud
at the pinkish dawn
and wholly dried up in vain

jackal...held its breath and walked away to hell
and wove into the night its voice like a tolling knell
wavering from the mountains into the plains
and the smell of the burnt wheat in the hairy biack rag-sack
spread everywhere

Nedrat GURCAN translation metin sahin