A Duet with Xue Tao
My soul, conforming to this crescent,
and flying, now chases a gathering of skies.
Its fine light form, against the darkness, fills
and, from all this world of men, its circle can
[Xue Tao, “Moon” in The Brocade River Collection]
hülya n. yılmaz:
a gentle wind
lowers itself onto the arid leaf
thirsty for the attar of a new breath
awaiting in patience the first drop
underneath layers of the frozen white
it whispers promises anew
unlocks the box after Pandora leaves
she has been tricked . . .
no ill seeps through this time
the bolt’s ice will not be melting yet
in joyous dance unite hope and smiles
dreams and love recover again
Goethe calls out as if for me:
“Muses, help me with art,
To suffer joy’s pain!”
Ludwig Uhland’s painless joy
cuddles me with a kissing breeze:
“Oh fresh scent, oh new sound!
Now, poor heart, fear not!
Now everything, everything must change.”
[hülya n. yılmaz, “a gentle wind” in Aflame, Memoirs in Verse]
(c) hülya n. yılmaz (October 19, 2019)