The night's again on youthful minds,
As sunlight is upon the day,
Joining around with different kinds,
Making the world go round and play.
They revel much at sprightly nights,
With golden cups in silver hands,
Dancing as dazzling diamonds bright,
With tongues who no one understands.
Free is the joy who is held there,
As swirling leaves do fall on grounds,
Without a woe, without a care,
Yet they do make a lot of sounds.
After night, when at last awake,
They're welcomed by the one: headache.
Not much have I narrated this story,
Who's about glee and about worry.
I became quiet after seeing her,
This bluesy woe; o soul, this does vary.
We are the nightingales of this garden,
We are the poets, wielding poetry.
This crafted work is veiling prejudice,
I don't see the hands crafting embroidery.
Sometimes a love, sometimes a description,
Mâhî's drawing a gleamy gallery.
Insanlarda bir adetdir tebessüm,
Dar zamanlarda kuvvetdir tebessüm.
Yakut dudaklar ile akşam üstü,
Şüpheli yerde rüşvetdir tebessüm.
Taze taze bahar zamanlarda ki,
Sevenlere işaretdir tebessüm.
Dediler ki hep; bir dilsiz dil vardır,
O dilsiz dilde evetdir tebessüm.
Tanıdıklara ve yabancılara,
Ey Mâhî deme: "zahmetdir tebessüm".
Lit-cities are with lit-nights decorated,
And lit-nights are with lit-brights decorated.
Monster movies making a rampaging mess,
Full and filled with power and fights decorated.
Pretty memory lane is up my alley,
Nicely with bright neon-lights decorated.
The rosy pictures who're posted online are
With eyes, with glows and delights decorated.
The glittering billows of dusty smoke spreads
The haze, and are with sprites decorated.
O bilmeden gönül alır gece gündüz,
O hep güzel zülüf saçar gece gündüz,
Yavaş yavaş ki aniden beni rastlar,
Ve hep yavaş yavaş kaçar gece gündüz.