We were three; Bedirhan, Nazlıcan and me
Three voices, three hearts, three sworn fire...
Our names were carved to the rocks and mountains as trouble
Heavy blame on our shoulders, cross fires in our bosom
Hands on trigger, eyes on the door, our backs trusted upon soil
We hugged each other under the stars and the quilt
While we were scrubbing our freezing hands with poison hemlock
The sea was far away and the loneliness was hurtful.
At the edge of the cliffs in the nights,
Coyote sounds afar would run through our faces, our bread, our ballads
Nazlıcan would rub thyme to her chest, the odour would spread
We secretly eyed her, as our hearts collapsed.
Maybe we lost Nazlıcan to a shepherd's pipe.
She conjoined with fireflies and withered away flickering.
Leaving a delicate dead butterfly right in the middle,
Withering away ablaze like a bullet, like a mine...
Nazlıcan, the doe of the wild ridges
Nazlıcan, hair sweeped by storm
You too went to the sidereal world?
Nazlıcan, wounded within...
Nazlıcan, the flower of highlands
Nazlıcan, the burning sensation
A butterfly in my chest
Nazlıcan...
We were now crashed like a defeated army, abandoned
We passed by, our parkas and hearts torn apart
The rest is the feeling of death, heavy silence
We passed by, the emptiness of Nazlıcan between us.
They shot Bedirhan behind the back in a pit
Though he rose above from many great blockades,
Like a rifle sliding gravely through a shoulder,
He trembled and his arms fell down to his sides.
Death surrounded him like a dead nettle
His reflection in the moonlight was an overthrown tree
While my pulse cracked my chest,
I reached and touched his eyelashes in tears.
It was like a joke, he was going to wake up,
He was going to poke the fire and roll a cigarette.
But death has been loyal to its appointment.
He was no more, like Nazlıcan.
Bedirhan, the ghost of pitch black nights,
Bedirhan, the plague of treacherous ambushes.
You weren't a guy to end like this, speak up!
Bedirhan, graved in eagle's nest.
Bedirhan, the fugitive of the mountains
Bedirhan, sharp blue eyes
In my stash, a knife of silent night
Bedirhan...
We were three
Three flowers of suicide
Bedirhan, Nazlıcan and me,
Suphi...