HERE 

              By Arif Ay

the wind blows quietly

a tile falls into the garden

the sun looks at my hand

a rain drop falls in my tea

a cloud like a ship slowly

draws up to my table

hand in hand we climb up

to the deck of the evening

here are the stars we say

we repeat the names of flowers

later as though nothing has happened

you feed the chickens first thing in the morning

Source: Flowering Sky By Arif Ay    Translated by Mevlut Ceylan