Elif [English translation]

With its tender flakes, snow flutters about,

It keeps falling, calling out “Elif… Elif…”

This frenzied heart of mine wanders about,

Like minstrels, calling out “Elif… Elif…”

Elif’s robe is embroidered all over;

Her eyes – like a baby goshawk’s – glower.

She smells lovely like a highland flower,

With those scents calling out “Elif… Elif…”

When she frowns, her glance is a dart that goes,

Into my heart: I fall into death’s throes,

In her white hand she holds a pen - she knows,

What she writes, calling out “Elif… Elif…”

Right in front of her home a trellis stands;

There’s Elif, holding glasses in her hands,

It’s as if a duck whose head has green strands,

Gently floats, calling out “Elif… Elif…”

I am the Minstrel: your slave for my part,

There’s no love for other belles in my heart,

Unbuttoning the shirt, I tear apart,

The collars, calling out “Elif… Elif…”