the letters

• leonard cohen'in dear heather albumunun pek guzel olan 3. sarkisi:
  
  you never liked to get
  the letters that i sent,
  but now you've got the gist
  of what my letters meant.
  you're reading them again,
  the ones you didn't burn,
  you press them to your lips
  my pages of concern.
  i said there had been a flood,
  i said there is nothing left,
  i hoped that you would come,
  i gave you my address,
  your story was so long,
  the plot as so intense.
  it took you years to cross
  the lines of self defence,
  the wounded forms appear:
  the loss, the full extent
  and the simple kindness here.
  the solitude of strength,
  the walk into my room.
  you stand there at my desk,
  begin your letter to
  the one who's coming next.