Owning a heart without any expectations is my literature,
When it comes to the sound of the lovely nature,
The veins on the leaves of soul draw your picture
On its reflection appears my unique teacher
Love resembles an empty paper you hang on the moon;
That's why your pen cries with inks and tears alone
Patience might make you a patient suffering from any tune
Think about a remedy that will emerge so soon
Love me as a whole,
Though there isn't even a reason;
Love me as a whole,
'cause love is putting piles of bricks on me
Written by the master of loneliness,
Okan EMANET
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