Had my mother been here, autumn would not have dared to enter this land
For had she drawn the sword of her heart, even autumn would have recoiled
It happened because she was not here: Autumn… and my mother, to say so is the truth
She would not have allowed it, and she would have cast a stern glance at the yellowing leaves
But are you like that, Oh Time? Your compassion has long since died
You have never gained any insight, not then, nor ever
My mother is gone, and I am left like a stepchild at the threshold of the day
You know it well: Autumn is a profound sense of abandonment – this is certain –
Had my mother been here, the sapling shoot would not have withered on the bough, nor the rose faded
A dream, forever green, would have visited my slumber
True spring would have arrived in all its splendor
Sauntering in, unburdened by the dread of autumn…
Now, in the mirror of reality, I am strewn all over with fallen leaves!
I would splash that water on my face every morning, with such care,
Washing away the dust the days had gathered in the dimples of my cheeks.
My mother was courage—a fig tree splitting rock in the orchard of existence;
She is gone, and I am left a stepchild of life in desolate parks.
The wind has turned; the fervent fire brought by the days has died out,
All around me, my surroundings, even the very breath I draw, is nothing but ash.
If she were here, she would fan the flames against the frost and tame the ash,
The wind would instantly grasp her meaning, were she to whisper ever so softly.
If she were here, she would be the gardener in my life, chasing away the autumn,
Helping me don wings to reach the things I had missed,
Her whispered cues would fill my ears with remedies for the incurable;
With her here, I would not have remained a novice at tomorrow, or at love.
If she were here, she would shatter every lock with a gaze full of love,
But she is not; look, loneliness is staring right at me from over there.
A mystery: a hidden giant, lurking behind the doors I knock upon…
Ask: Did time not kiss the motherless one I left behind? No, Mother!
Know this, Mother: because you are gone, I am deemed non-existent in the gathering of the living.
English Translation by Mesut Şenol