We, two lonely* people, would be one right*.
Now we are like people who live in different poems.
I am Mecnun, You are Şirin*, this is not a coincidence.
We are like a trap which were set up to us.
I told about you to blues*, and about the wounds inside me.
The one on the sky rained, and there is sea sparkle on the one which is on the ground.
I feel like I am going from your eyes which tell me "this is a robbery".
I feel like I am going from your eyes.
Don't tell anyone, keep this between our wounds*.
We could not fit in the cities, brimmed over the poems.
I didn't forget, again I became the bigger person.
Ah! wine glasses were broken to you tonight.