Yangınlı Şiir [English translation]

From the time when bandits were kind

Streets where men kiss women's eyelash

I passed , I am rowing up sometimes with lies

I am writing my inside in my room

It touching other lifes

I get in thousand trouble because of my soul

I am his volunteer worker

Do somebody say a poem with fires like this in this era?

I am a guest of that past

Evening on high sidewalk

My disaster knows you

You have a cap on your head

You have gloom inside you

They burn me like a street. Desperate

Childrens look behind me

Like a fugitive