north gates

rivers pass through her
in a twilight north morning
in that frosty hillside
to the last lights of the city
she sang indigo songs
then shut the city gate
by tiptoeing

rails divided the night
rain was on us, as always

calamities pass through her pen
in a red north summer
in that immigrant district
in number 35 or Rinkeby
in an old-bus or under a graffiti
she depicted bloody exile stories
then salty water of bitterness, aspiration and anger
touched to her lips

rails divided the night
then north gates
were widely opened.


Kivanc
December 3, 2009
Malmo-Stockholm train


P.S: P.S: I am thankful to my friend, Karianne Francoise Lundgaard, for her encouragement to translate my poems into English.