if you can find a letter, put it on
the scream of a no-name pain
would the smoke be seen after the fire
while leaving away towards the sky
the wounded houses do moan
the rooms filled with fear
a breath, the one not taken and given
it is much too tight to put in shelters
there is no previous nor aftermath situation
for the fire to make love with gunpowder
the bleeding streets
give always birth to dead children
English Translation by Mesut ŞENOL