The last stucco was applied,
The cistern completed
Into the heart of the young cistern, vivid water poured,
And as it flowed, the space awoke to life.
Water flooded the space.
Space and water united.
Underground, the cistern lived for centuries.
Time, like a river that rolls on by tearing everything apart,
Flowed over the ground.
And things above the ground changed.
The Cistern first lingered.
Then, drop by drop, its life dried up,
The torso remained.
Now the water has left the space.
And a body, fifteen centuries of age,
Is standing still like Solomon, leaning over his staff,
beneath the surface of Istanbul.
Might not be coming around here anymore,
Its soul, however, may leak from the unknown.
Unlike the weight of the water
It is now the Water Soul, Su Ruhu,
Which fills the space with the lightness of incorporeality.
And in the dark, the cistern opens its eyes and starts breathing.
The space returns to life, the darkness enlightens.
Water Soul might open a gap and awaken the memory.
Time that gallops on the surface of the earth
Might flow differently through this gap.