The winter was supposed for a moment to blow through the brush of the painter with no drinks
Incidentally look at here how it did lean the ladder against a pleasantly cozy sun
The bothersome landscape would for sure change when it warms up its hands
In the back side, let the dark sections of the past epochs get cold then
Is it simple to have the soil laugh and the stone speak
God of other pastures and hills of the mountains
Colors beaten in the summer give light to the fall
To the wisdom of the river? Still it is proper
Had it known it would die in this large dirty lake
It wouldn’t leave the top and go down the plain
Translated by Mesut Senol