He was a puissant young guy
But, he was too little in my eyes
He got mad, and so went up to the mountains*
I don't know whether he would come down or not
He is now the dust of the mountains
Maybe, the melody (the instrument) of the rebellion
He is still the sting in my heart
I don't know whether it would heal or not
His name is Yılmaz, he himself is also indomitable*
He doesn't have a high status, you simply cannot flatter him*
You cannot ask the mountains any questions
I don't know whether he would come back or not
His blue eyes are just like pearls*
His fear of death is as little as that
The death angel's horse is bitchy
I don't know whether he would get on or not
It had snowed on his anorak*
He had cried in a corner
Maybe, his hands had gotten burned
I don't know whether it would be put out or not
His name is Yılmaz, he himself is also indomitable
He is free of states, you cannot play up to him
You cannot ask the mountains for an explanation
I don't know whether he would come back or not