Two cinnamon eyes are smiling,
They have soaked up the cry of an Arab song.
A tender kiss is sealed by two fig leaves,
They hide the loneliness of two bodies.
The morning dawns with a naive surprise,
Her wings open the stained windows.
The room keeps like a treasure casket
A blend of cigarette, sin and oleoresin scents.
Your trace fades away under the rain….
You can’t come back, can you?
The tiny raindrops touch the ground,
They cry because their souls are full with sorrow...
* (means ‘cry’ in Turkish)