Morning Feeling
Perhat Tursun
tr. Joshua L. Freeman

Every morning
the junk collector’s harsh and ugly voice
through the cracks in the doors
through the cracks in the windows
with all its might presses into the house
Perhaps there’s nothing sad about this voice
but with its harsh and ugly tone
it sounds so very sad to me

I recall
how many places
my address and phone number have been left
and with that I feel
that I’ve lost many things
I even sense I’ve lost
my deepest secrets
On broad streets
I feel stark naked
for no one comes to see me
and no one calls
Perhaps somewhere they secretly watch me
leering shamelessly at my phone number and address
as if leering nastily at my secrets

Not daring to go outside
I sit here cursing them all
The junk collector’s hoarse and ugly voice
the beauty of the sunlight on the buildings
the body odor rising from the blanket
all force one to admit
that the day has begun

          1993, Ürümchi