Ah, autumn
a season where colors paint a canvas,
the most beloved of all.
It is in this season that I miss you most
I miss you so deeply
that I write your name wherever I can,
in the sands along the shore,
upon the mountains and the stones,
and on the leaves as they drift away.
I cry out
hoping they might carry the news of my longing for you
to the migratory birds
passing before my window.
I speak of you to the water lilies
the flowers that suit this season best,
smiling at me each morning
in a vibrant, affectionate embrace.
It is no use
no matter what I do, it is to no avail,
without you, the flowers refuse to bloom.
The daisies, the hyacinths
even the turtledoves in my garden have turned away from me.
Yet, when you smiled,
all the nightingales of the world were singin within my eyes.
English Translation by Mesut Şenol