| Was it you, was it your loneliness?
|
| We used to open our rusty eyes in the blind darkness
|
| A hangover in our language, a curse
|
| Halls, markets, art lovers
|
| My problem was to bring you out in public
|
| An ammonia on your collar, ammonia flower
|
| Oh, my loneliness is my pissing countess
|
| The more disgraced we are, the better
|
| Oh, my loneliness is my pissing countess
|
| The more disgraced we are, the better
|
| We frequented Kumkapi taverns
|
| In front of us, Altınbaş, Altın Zincir, bean stew
|
| Behind us, officials, teams, Hızır Paşas
|
| In the morning, they would find the scum in the open.
|
| It was so hot, so hot that the hands of the scavengers
|
| I would caress you with the hands of the scavengers
|
| Oh, my loneliness is my broom hair
|
| The worse we smell, the better
|
| Oh, my loneliness is my broom hair
|
| The worse we smell, the better
|
| I saw a 'red' plane in the sky
|
| Lots of steel, lots of stars, lots of people
|
| One night I crossed the Wall of Love
|
| It's so clear where I fell
|
| The place where I fell is so clear
|
| There is you at my bedside and the universe
|
| I don't count the ones I've died and resurrected |