-how sad must be those lakes-
perhaps a few leaves would be falling
out of our loneliness
perhaps our hands are like water lily
we greet each other in the autumn
while sensing the smell of departure
of those lakes of sadness
we would not hear anymore
the festivities of the bay windows
even we would be all ears
we tend to forget the existence
of the streaming rivers, shooting stars
the morning of the smell of soap
of the laundry with the smell of soap
we would be shot at our eyes
as we are plunging into the world saying it is a fate
we are outcast kid
of the rogue rains
our mind used to know the blue
and on top of that
that laughter with a smell of a rose
gently bending over the water
such kisses of the touch of a bird
just before there is a rupture
the diary of a woman
in it she holds her tongue
English Translation by Mesut Şenol