Written in Turkish by postal exchange in April 2020. Ilhan wrote the first stanza and Caroline responded with the second.
First I thought of the freshness of the shade in which I hide. The sound of the city, mountain's distant grandeur. And the clumsy attempts of fledglings as they try to land on branches. I grew thirsty, so thirsty and thought of other lives. I thought long and hard, with no view on which to rest my eyes, of darkness and the sun. My mind asks, What is it to thrust out green leaves? What is it to work, build up a sweat, to tire thanks to labour, from beautiful hard work? No matter in which stream I bathe, the waters are so bitter. Look! See your form in the shaded corner of the lake. There floats the crown of a daffodil swimming like a yellow ghost. It's petals are seeping towards the silence of transparency. There is strength in the elipses, where petals overlap, we are strong in the space we make between us. Come, let us climb Idris's high mountain, let the brave memories of your muscles return. Let sweat shine, and not tears. by Ilhan Sami Çomak and Caroline Stockford April 2020