How shall I say "beloved" to such a beloved
After she made me "Mecnun"* and send me into the desert
Well, singing birds had been attempting to the vineyard of all the others
What should I do after my rose get fade
Your eyebrows are black, so I don't need the violin to get melancholy
I don't want a guest that's more real than my heart
Even if I'm going to die, I don't want any cure for my sorrow
After shooting the arrow and pricking the heart
Beloved, which doesn't rush like wild rivers
Beloved, which doesn't tie her heart to mine
Beloved, which doesn't cry to my being now
Well, she should not cry after I die
I'm Pir Sultan Abdal and I shall keep on going on this way
I have become the slave of completed human being
So, let the rain fall or let it full everywhere
What should I do with them, after I dive into the ocean
*Leyla ile Mecnun - a traditional love story