This Is Not The Last Monsoon Poem by Ulas Basar Gezgin

The balcony, the monsoon, and the beer
‘Farewell Letter' from Inti Illimani.
It is hard to convert monsoon's fall
To the earth into words.

What are left after thousand years of rain
Are the coconut trees.
They have bent their long necks
And shadowy heads onto time by time.

Flooding, deluge, leaking roof, collapsed wall...
It looks like the nature doesn't want us here,
Or she doesn't like this particular state of us.
That is why they are a good trinity: the balcony, the monsoon, and the beer.

OK, come on, but what do you think about this?
The most unexpected parts of the world are rusted,
The masters of darkness, getting their power from this,
Covered and covering everywhere like moss.

This is not the last monsoon, but I hope it would stop.
Trouble, sorrow, whatever cramps the heart,
I hope they would all stop and the nervous war with the shadows.
Although it is not the last monsoon, let it be the last one...


July 17-21,2014