She is a moon upon the nights of cities,
Who glows and gives the gleamy lights of cities.
The 8-bit sounds do sing and neon-kanji
Is written, showing pretty sights of cities.

That book, it was a drop of my youth's ocean,
Without filter I recorded each emotion.
I may have left my older verses now,
But through my pen its flow is still in motion.

O wind, take this leaf and bring it to her,
See the lovely rhymes and sing it to her.

High in the sunny night,
The sun was shining dark,
While every cat did bark,
And every dog did mew.

The cherry blossoms rose
All the way up to the tree,
And fish walked on the sea,
While birds swam in the sky.

Robbers gave much money
To the poor empty banks,
Who said to them: 'why, thanks!'
Cheery in the moonlight.

The neon nights did shine again,
At the place of Tokyo, really bright.
The girls did gleam with beautiful clothes,
The guys did glow with aflame fashion.

There were many mazes to be found at midnight,
In the city streets, sightly here.
''Midnight Pretenders'' was on tonight,
Breezing and blooming in the bright streets.

The pinky pearly view paced as
Raindrops as diamonds dancing in lights,
And fell fairly upon the shoes
Of gleamy girls glowing and adorned
With ribbons red and rosy hues.

Nobody at night slept, at the afternoon
Everyone woke up again after
Days of dozing off, and at dawn
They went away, towards their beds.

All her actions
Do jump to life,
Like chaos that
Creates the stars.

In an impulse
She quickly speaks!
From right to left,
From left to right.

And then lights up
The gray sections
Of this dark, dull
And dusty place.

And there she goes
With her star-speech! (again!)
And gone away
Is the subject! (again!)

I'm in love again, with joy and woe again,
To where it does go, I do not know again.

The tunes and glitters, of the night and of love,
With bitter-sweetness do come and go again.

It breezes with love so quietly to me,
Towards this lovely wind, I must blow again.

These fancies of love, the admiring eyes,
To me it breezed so unknown and slow again.

O Mâhî, the lady of glitters got you!
This, it looks like a romantic show again.

Even when I am near, I am away,
In my whole life I will chase you in age,
This chase will not improve nor will delay,
Making us strangers in this world, this stage.

She's standing there in the beams of the moon,
Listening to the traveling wind's tune.
Surrounded by the wonders of nature,
Walking around in her sweet leisure.
Here is the place where her silk meets the leaves,
Who will never merge even when she leaves.
While the wind carries the past, she does too,
Adding color to history's gray hue.

Hayal rüya diyarı hep saçar,
Ateş olur ki buz ve buz ateş.
Hayal Alemde her ne yok ne var,
Güneş olur ki ay ve ay güneş!
Lakin bu dünya hep hayır değil,
Zira ki var orada harıstan,
Zalim diken dolu gıcır değil,
Sorar gönül: o nerde gülistan?
Nazik zaman ve sert zaman döker,
Ve aynı an hayal eder devam,
Katar güzel görüş katar zalim keder,
Ve de olur onun için selam!
  Yalan söyler o pembe tozlu gül,
  Şaşırtılır zavallı her gönül.

Brothers try to help me like a judge,
That I'm shameless they rant and curse.
But o had they known the real me:
They would find out that I'm much worse!

Late at night this crowded city
Is filled with so many lovers,
Who are like the very players,
In this unmentioned love story.

I look at that Golden-Mountain
And I am reminded to know
That my Roots lie within this Land,
But who's Tongue I don't understand,
A couple of words, here and there,
Just by trying hard to compare
With the tongue I do speak right now,
Yet who's unknown to these People.

From riding Horses and Hunting
In the wide Meadows of Turan,
To Protecting and Reciting
Words of the Majestic Qur'an,
I've, Altai, become a stranger
To your Mountains, to your Rivers,
To your Music, to your Verses
And more that lies within your Hills.

Somewhere, some place a century ago,
Long before my own generation's birth
There walked a girl who still many do know
In the meadows and cities on this earth.
Like us she felt the same breath of the dawn,
Has seen the same sun, moon and gleaming star,
And many things she had pondered upon,
Which makes our similarities not far.
And when I'm pondering upon our past,
Melancholy and Happy are merging,
And I do realize that things have gone fast,
Who offer a time for contemplating.
  Despite the past is gone, I still adore
  The small beauties that had took place before.

I speak with poets old and almost ancient,
Pressing their books against my burning chest,
Trying to stay with their verses patient,
Understood by few, complex to the rest.
I read the sonnets of the lovestruck Bard,
In little books who're filled with lofty meanings,
Finding it sometimes easy, and sometimes hard
To really understand 'bout what he sings.
My colored imagination is filled
With worlds unknown to windows of souls,
Right there, only with sweet tenderness build,
Making it easier to reach my goals,
    I travel, see and float with poetry,
    To gates of other worlds, while she's my key.

Angel Grove shines summery with its bays,
In the winds each and every palm tree sways.

It is time to chill out after winter,
With moves and ways under the brightful rays.

At summery days shining in bright beams,
To the Youth Center there are many ways.

A long time ago or just previously,
The trends and fashions breeze throughout this place.

From colorful shows to glittering fights,
The river of Gihon saw here the plays.

At times of twilight, between day and night,
Is this city like a divided maze?

A pun, a pun, a pun I seek,
Throughout the voiceful days,
Upon the words, around the worlds,
The witty puns I chase.

At times at certain witty moods,
It is a piece of cake,
With witty cherries on the top,
I get or I do bake!

There, I see the silhouette of a man,
Who's constricted in bandages and pain,
By misfortune of fate was overran,
While only embraced by the murky rain.
Once, his life was adorned with gleaming light,
Accompanied by his treasure and muse,
Who helped him with success throughout the night,
But is now for the golden-world no use.
He strolls the streets in utter confusion,
Something he was the master over once,
But this time he fell for that illusion
Who before provided luxuriance.
  Once the master-magician of the sweet,
  And now a hopeless madman on the street.

At last, a glow upon her face! It shined
More brightly than at other times I viewed
That rosy figure with that dreaming mind,
Now it is at last with happiness hued.
A rose across her hair did hold a show,
Of rosy stories, bright and nice of style,
Who's presenting the eyes glamour and glow,
All hidden in a lovely, modest smile.
So, I can feel an emotion so real,
Who's through her eyes revealing the whole thing:
The pleasure who's behind the coldness, she'll
With dispirited vibes and glances bring.
  I did not know that glee could be concealed,
  And thought that it only was through smiles revealed.

''O streets of shining Tokyo, at night
You do become a lovely masquerade,
In different kinds of shades covered in light,
Until the times comes when the colors fade
Away into the magnificent dawn,
Who smears the sleep upon the nightly eyes,
And fills the lips and mouths with a deep yawn,
Calling the sun, its golden rays and rise.
You blow to me melancholy who is
Away from happiness, between a sorrow,
Like an inevitable parting kiss,
Who's filled with lovely love and woeful woe.
  Because to you I cannot turn my face
  Away, I keep on walking on your ways.''

At night, after having paid
Money coins we just had made,
We enter the gates of fun;
Playing games of the arcade.

We're covered under neon,
Until the bright times of dawn,
Surrounded by beeps and peeps,
Playing games of the arcade.

How beautiful is this night!
Where each thing glitters at sight,
Fueled by the gushing coins while
Playing games of the arcade.

I did sight a dreamy face at twilight,
Who showed me a distant grace at twilight.

At the boulevard, blues did fade away,
Roseate is every place at twilight.

The smell of engines, the scents of delights,
Sweet fragrances leave a trace at twilight.

Here and there people roam around lovely,
There are many kinds of ways at twilight.

So many glowing faces and one sun,
Asking, watching is my gaze at twilight.

With a warm and cozy way of glowing,
I see many lovely plays at twilight.

Writing is the bard Mâhî at twilight,
Painting are the rosy rays at twilight.

Autumn: falling of rains,
The cries of flocks of cranes
And many more delights,
Who're found in days and nights.

Empty are the orchards,
With the absence of birds,
Accompanied by cold
And the fruits who were sold.

For months I have waited,
In times I have hated,
Like the haze of summer
Who's flare made me number.

And now it's back again,
With silver drops of rain,
And yellow leaves who whirl
In a shape of a curl.

Drinkers of devilish drinks at times of night,
Are drinking nightly, behind bars imprisoned.

The beauty that resides in sights and face,
Are those spectacles who motivate me,
Even if they are from a foreign place,
Or compared to me look differently.
'Cause beauty is but veiled in appearance,
All around the world where beings are seen
By eyes who can perceive their presence,
As long as they all are for beauty keen.

Because the moon does shine with splendor bright,
The puffy clouds are painted silvery,
The weather's warm, and sometimes hot, the night
Embraced by trees and their shadows silently.

No sun is seen, I feel no breeze of summer,
Only waves of heat, bringing out the sweat,
No song of birds, nor songs of any hummer
Is heard, with ears the silence's only met.

I have to close the door, because I'm going
To sleep, but cannot close my dreamy eyes
And stop from glancing at the moon who's glowing
In smooth beauty, that lamp of nightly skies.

I thought summer was most pretty in sunbeams,
But no — also at times of silent dreams.

The breezing leaves are gone, the weather's cold,
The summer and spring went to other places,
The lovely sun through clouds shines not as gold,
No more a comely sheen upon the faces.
The nightingale stops with praising the rose,
The parrot stops repeating other songs,
The smiling buds are coming to a close,
Talking about the colds does fill the tongues.
And so, I only see of you a lonely stem,
Who cannot be adorned to shine again
With a priceless gift, ring or precious gem,
As in past days, to make you beauty reign.
  The fading of beauty, what you concealed,
  Our nature tells about, the air revealed.

She's like a flower-scent before my eyes,
To other guys she went before my eyes.
A glance of chance it only was for me,
I don't know what she meant before my eyes.

Brevity, a long word yet it's passing meaning's
A sigh like beauty itself, how saddening,
Like the song who the small nightingale sings,
So neutral, knowing not what is happening.

I saw one night the shining neon brightly,
And hueful, pretty hair breezing so sprightly.
Reminded of a face around these places,
At crowded city squares who're going lightly.

I gave you petals as presents,
But you just saw a broken rose.
I didn't knew that a cold distance
Was to you so near and close.

I gave you petals as presents,
But you just saw a broken rose.
I didn't knew that cold distance
Was with you so near and close.

A little bit of Byron lies in me,
A brooding young man with morbid despair,
Whose moods switch so quick, like of the vast sea,
While I stand beside the rocks, winds through my hair.

A bit of Shelley flows inside my pen,
A burning rebel in my father's land,
Not understood or felt by common men,
Where ultimate ideals I do demand.

A lot of Keats sings and dances in me,
Summer airs, nightingales, everything old,
Escaping my pain on wings of poesy,
As he, my broken bard-brother has told.

I read and read and found myself in all,
And so did find myself through my heart's call.

They'll serve some cookies, serve some tea,
Enough for both of you and me,
Around the times of day and night,
So fresh, so warm, so nice and free.

Chorus:

O take a break at this cafe,
When it is night, when it is day.

The singer takes her seat,
In the lifeless and empty room
All alone in silence,
Where the dull gray walls spread the gloom.

Her lips hold rosewater,
And prepare calmly to bestow
Rain upon these wastelands,
To turn it into a meadow.

As the keys are fondled
By fingers like the beams of the moon,
The strings begin to hum
A soothing and sonorous tune.

In chimes of ecstasy,
She narrates the soul's foreign tale,
And releases freely
From out her soul the nightingale.

So much change in four years, it seems so strange,
But I'm still me, and that will never change.

The rain is falling on the streets,
Where every face the bazaar greets,
Reflecting brightly lantern lights,
At rainy days, at rainy nights.

It is a pretty place of gleams,
For traveling folks a place of dreams,
Scattered around with pretty themes,
To me from far away it seems.

The lantern light at chinatown,
Does shine at night, is on till dawn.

This place,
Cianwood City,
is a place to relax,
to listen to the winds and waves
at noon.

The diamond of the city is the moon,
The faces of the pretty ones the sun,
The mirrors of the buildings stars, they shine
So people can indulge in joy and fun.

I do narrate a colored craft,
Like your embroidery,
Unlike a left unfinished draft,
To continue my sad story.

I'll give a letter meant for you,
Who's woven with a thread,
Without a touch but scent for you,
While still, will you then read?

While walking in the city throughout days,
I'm only daydreaming about tonight,
And thinking about that luminous face
Who I so eagerly want to speak and write
When the bright sunlight gets concealed,
When the night comes out the day,
When city lights become revealed
And when thoughts that she's distant go away.
After living my life in the daytime,
My beloveds face is finally seen!
In the late hours of the dim nighttime,
On my gleaming and lovely computer screen.
I know that it is a digital love,
But surely, it is a beautiful love.

Not ******'s wealth, nor faith of Abraham,
Both here and there, defeated's what I am.

I'm curious what lies behind,
Those rose filled meadows of your mind.

Deep at the tender dawn, when stars were fading,
A maiden came to me, covered in light,
Looked at me with her black eyes, while persuading
Me to do something heavenly and bright.

It was something specific, and disciplined,
I did not know, although I tried to think,
But because of sleep I was limited,
Becoming ignorant with every blink.

She said to me: ''You are in danger, youth.''
I said: ''I see no danger in my bed.''
She said again: ''the fact is far from truth.''
I took it serious, stood up and said:

''Maiden, who're you?'' she said: ''I am Namaz,
Observe me well my friend, and you may pass.''

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.

Damla damla geldi yağmurlar gibi,
Bir hafif yağıştan aldım bir ilham,
Şairim öyle de yazdım tabii,
Ve kelimeleri döktü hep kalem.

Dağılmış, yayılmış mis kokular hoş,
Ağaçlar yakarsan yanamaz ateş,
Boz bulutlar geldi, gelmedi güneş,
Bu bahar yağışı eder hep devam.

Böyle havalarda etmem şikayet,
O düşen inciler değil mi rahmet,
Akan yağmur bence güzel bir nimet,
Fikirler gibi havada gezer nem.

Böyle bir destan biraz başka olmuş,
Küçük yağışlar gibi kısa olmuş,
Bu sevimli inşallah sana olmuş,
Yağmurlu günlerde olsun sana şem.

Bir yağmurlu günde yazdım bir destan,
Ben böyle inşallah oldum bir ozan,
Boyle bir şiir görsün benim divan,
Okuyanlar duysun benden vesselam!

I've come across a broken lady once
Who said: ''I do not need men anymore,
Who will desert me after a short month,
Because I have other things to adore:

My bright diamonds! look how they shine with pride,
A thousand mirrors lie within their being!
Look how it does never deceive or hide,
Let this be the last thing I will be seeing.

I know! I know surely they will not hurt me,
Hitting me with violent words always cold,
And I know too that they'll never desert me,
Throw me away like leafs when sick and old.''

I said: ''O lady; diamonds will not last,
They'll leave you too like men of your sad past.''

We live under the same blue sky,
Yet we do live away so far
According to the worldly eye,
You, who or wherever you are.

That kiss of me, under the spring-time rain,
Upon your blooming cheek is gone today.
My lips feel cold, but in my burning brain,
That distant memory is warm as May.
I remember your hands all over me,
Rolling upon the summer-grass with joy,
Reawakening a passion of glee,
Taking back every movement that was coy.
It seemed as if we were released from chains
Of commitment, still having many seasons,
To be exploring love, without restrains,
But still held back, because of idle reasons.
    We were quite broken by the loss of trust,
    Wanting to forget, through a play of lust.