Over the valleys of my heart extends a new flower,
Throughout the empire of lonesome plants grows an unusual clover
The prophecy to be uttered is a sure star for any evil eye,
Whereby an excellent waterfall arouses a lie and tie
You are my beauty, the name of whom is Betulip
Let me sigh over, shining every morning so as to have a love-clip
Let me water my leaves that are about to wither and slip
Intensify the inner and outer part of the world, let it be tulip
There is a world lying here; let it die out through your lip
You've glanced at me before,
But I certainly need much more;
Otherwise, I am standing at your door
Written by the master of loneliness,
Okan EMANET
