I am going to get down on writing the life story of Okan Emanet,
who is too shabby and miserable to deserve the throne of love-set
The lines will be all filled with the excellence of your paradise-eyes
As days will follow all the nights, this heart will pursue your very presence
The rank of being a self beside your dreams is too much for this sense
There will be sentences of longings for you; there will be the song of tears
There will be hidden the words of scream for you; there will be cries of fears
The hours clicking the scent of your existence, there will be your dynasty
The pages of lamenting will touch upon the day when I see your beauty
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