HER AND MY FLOWERS

Please, don't touch my flowers,

Don't let them wither, don’t let them die…

I will weave them into a crown for my lover’s hair on his happiest day.

I will weep for losing him, then kneel before him...

I will say: "Touch my tears, touch them…

Touch the tears that flow for you, hold my hands…"

But you will not be able to hold me, nor touch…

On the day they steal you away,

I will be left in disarray,

For life without you leads only to the Day of Judgment…

I will only miss my flowers,

Yet, we will not find them either.

"Your roses have withered… Your violets are gone…

Lilacs and hyacinths have silently flown away…"

Tulip gardens lie in ruin…

Emirgan, Gülhane silent, without you…!

And basil, sweet basil, has lost its scent…

I seek your grace, your beauty, Gülşen,

I seek your kindness, your tenderness I am lost…

Where is your elegance, your delicate soul?

My heart bleeds, my soul is torn,

My eyes burn red with sorrow…

For days, I will cry for you,

I will say, "My tears shall be my flowers…"

And they will bring me flowers, anyway…!

I will place them in your hair,

Yet, I will that see… they have long since faded…

And in the end, they will lay them on my grave…

Each year, on the day they stole you from me, my flowers will bloom again.

Each day I die, they will grow a little more nourished by my tears.

She will come, she will gaze upon me

She will weep, and weep…

And she will take my flowers, weaving them into a crown for her hair.

Apr 07, 1978
Istanbul