I am a man with countless wounds in the heartache kingdom
As a crying baby suffers from tortures in the camp of serfdom
All around by bleed and feed soul exists only one word "boredom"
Among the cold bushes of the crowds, I demand to be your freedom
Having released what is kept as a secret to your heart,
That man is huddling round the fire, yelling to be your other part
Uniting all the dispersed traces of love will be my main art,
Whereas the trains of my soul are equipped but told apart
Such an excellence has God drawn upon your face,
Behind the curtains of mystery and beyond the love-maze
Waiting for your presence with sheer patience and to surface
Ready to annihilate the borders circling around the bliss-lace
Before too late,
Let us go for this fate,
Against every rate,
Come under the tent of state,
Save me up to your smile and laughter
'cause I feel so cold and slender
'cause I am about to surrender
Written by the master of loneliness
Okan EMANET
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