Across the meadows of this autumn-air,
I see a ditch, a mirror of the sky,
The sun's setting, ending it with a flare
Of purple shades, an inspiring dye.
The breath of twilight is reviving me,
After striking my neck with a soft blow.
In everlasting beauty I feel free,
Losing myself in this natural glow.
Let there be friends – friends possessing a heart
Capable of perceiving all this lightness,
Who are together when you are apart,
While getting cleansed by all this sacred brightness.
    The people of the heart will recognize
    Upon Truth's land where truth and beauty lies.

He is a soul who doesn't know the world,
    Yet sees with his own two eyes its rules,
While his body is by his sadness curled,
    Counting his tears, who look like dewy jewels.
The crazy wind goes through his glossy hair,
    And its sword does almost strike his pale throat,
He's in a twisted state beyond compare,
    In his shaking hands the fine poems he wrote.
Viewing the Mystic's path, sometimes the frame
    Of life appears, yet all it secrets are
Still far away from him, he knows each name
    Of saint and poet, but still is far, too far.
Will the meaning of his life come true?
That brooding poet, he sometimes has a clue.

There is no thorn-lacking rose in this world,
Who does not inflict sorrows in this world.

I can grasp the moon between my fingers,
Yet can't grasp her from close in this world.

The desired past can only be found,
In memories and echoes in this world.

Each rose petal gets blown around slowly,
At each place where the wind blows in this world.

Gihon, quit making the reader so sad,
There are already much woes in this world!

I didn't had to see your flowing eyes,
Who're from me far away,
To taste the taste of your sorrowful cries,
Who's stream is a long way.

O streets of cities! Have you drunk more tears
Of the miserable ones,
Than the pearls who are bestowed from out skies,
Every night, every day?

We thought we wouldn't cry in-front the smiles
Of sinister sirens,
Who are the witches of the night and lies,
Full of tricks and of play.

The thick haze of the room are not from smoke
Who are by sweet smiles blown,
But by the bitter mouth who exhales sighs,
Who're never blown away.

Mâhî, the singer laments his own fault
Into a wise lesson,
Didn't he tell you to be smart and wise
At cities where traps stay?

The Son of Rome, strong and clear in mind,
Once proud and mighty, a holder of power,
Has fallen to the depths of humankind,
Not asking of his downfall and best hour.
From day to day, his seed did change and grow
In others shapes, not meant for nature's rules,
Its soil has turned fruitless, it is barren now,
Turning from geniuses into fools.
Where is the crusader with waving sword,
Coming to rescue all his oppressed brothers?
The viking with its axe, without a lord,
Invoking fear within the heart of others?
    Although since birth a foe of my ideal,
    Disappointment and mourning's what I feel.

Honest and silent cries
Who're both from truth and lies
Reveal without disguise
The stories of the eyes.

Those optics who are red,
Silver tears they have shed
And have carefully bled
The stories of the eyes.

As smoke fondles the lips,
Inhaled with gentle sips,
It gets exhaled and slips
The stories of the eyes.

Red mist covers the view
Of those jewels who're blue
Who show pitch-black nights through
The stories of the eyes.

Bubbles in the eyes hatch
And eyelashes can't catch
Streams, who (from her) detach
The stories of the eyes.

Tears roll down her rose-cheek,
Gushing forth like a creek.
And they can't stop. They leak,
The stories of the eyes.

As the streams of tears stop,
Night's veil and Dawn's breath swap,
They push, like a teardrop,
*The stories of the eyes.

On a cloudy Autumn day rain is the weather.
A blossom petal on the wet streets of Gion.
The soothing sounds of Koto in the theater.
A walking Geisha on the wet streets of Gion.

A soft kiss by the wind blows the petal away,
All elegantly through the wet streets of Gion.
The Geisha sings a song to cheer up this sad day,
Sings elegantly through the wet streets of Gion.

I want to fly into the skies,
like nightingales
and rest on roses
with my tender being.
Now my mind lies
on each leaf,
like shadows do in the summer.

If I could only tell
all my worries to myself,
because I am chained to tiredness,
and so cannot talk,
let alone sing about them.

Today I want to weep, and all day long,
To sing my feelings through a woeful song.
I have some words, hidden within my heart,
They cannot seem to flow from off my tongue.

De eerste plek van mijn suikerfeestgebed!
Je was al oud, maar nooit een stuk antiek,
Je had ook nooit een mooie minaret,
Maar toch een moskee, vanbinnen klassiek.

Nu loop ik langs jou stenen, met gedachten
Die steeds proberen te herinneren
*** het nou was; wat mensen hier brachten,
Wat was het wat ik deed al die keren?

O gebouw van oudsher, nu ben je onbekend,
Een oude plaats alleen van nostalgie,
Door nieuwelingen word je niet gekend,
En nu een stukje in de poëzie.

Eerst kleine handjes, kleine gebeden,
Nu een jongeman, kijkend naar het verleden.

There is pleasure's sigh, there is despair's sigh,
Adorned with a sweet smile or a sour cry,
Screaming both in the night with no reply,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

All places of Tokyo change at night,
Streets are flowing rivers of gleamy light,
Lit-neon signs glowing at every sight,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

More footsteps have been set in these lit-streets,
Than the words have been said in these lit-streets,
Or the numbers of debt in these lit-streets,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

Glamorous in the busy night like pearls,
Hostess girls show to men a sight like pearls,
With smiles and teeth who're white like pearls,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

Girls who're shining like jewels are adored,
Who quickly by empty wallets get bored,
By the men who these sweet gems can afford,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

As long as bars shine with signs of neon,
The crowds in this city are going on,
Until they are put out at times of dawn,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

Lights are reflected as blurs in each pool,
Who distort the sights like the alcohol,
Who is served in passionate bars as cool,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

Water's flowing in the water business,
Who's to the old days a reminiscences,
Where the thin rules of the night are boundless,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

Unlike the tradition of the flower,
Here they paint faces to take a powder,
And then embrace the ones with much power,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

The alcohol is poured down like the rain.
How hide drunkenness from whiskey and champagne,
They put powders on the face to look plain,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

Adored, desired and loved is every star,
Who strolls around or drinks in every bar,
By each man with a luxuriant car,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

Mâhî's still to Tokyo a stranger,
Both to its pleasure and to its danger,
Where the eyes at night only see a blur,
Under the glamorous buildings up high,
Who are standing under the blue night sky.

I see a rosaceous sunset view,
Turning slowly to night so blue.

Sounds of day change into night;
Sunlight replaced by neon light.

In the air, there is summer's breeze,
Unlocking many memories.

Everywhere I look I see smiles,
All dressed up in different styles.

Beautiful faces on bright screens,
Displaying stars, products and scenes.

I stare in the pink mists of love,
To the glowing faces above.

Each place I go I hear echoes,
As the chilling summer breeze blows.

I walk around in these places,
And encounter many faces.

Someone is sunken in their phone,
While smiling, standing all alone.

I see the city's blood; racing cars,
Shooting off like luminous stars.

From inside and outside chaos,
Sugarcoated in lavish gloss.

Colorful as Harajuku,
Or shining like Shinjuku.

So much people to speak and greet,
On every corner of this street.

But no time left to say hello,
When everyone does quickly go.

Would one of them have time for me?
Their true face, will I ever see?

I guess not; let's keep them in dreams,
Where they are adorned with moony gleams.

Where would they be, the sweet lovers,
In streets? In the breeze of summers?

It does not really matter much,
I can see the trace of their touch.

How else would this city be lit?
There's love! It's darkened without it.

That harem doors veil jewels I'm aware tonight,
But still I'll decide not to visit there tonight.

The nightingale lost his way in the rose garden,
A red mist descended upon the blue air tonight.

I don't approach it neither do I forget it,
Like a lonely widow's ring of despair, tonight.

Desire would go like cinnamon mist at dawn,
To take a sip from it I will not care tonight.

A candle's flame can be turned off by sorrow's breeze,
Yet that breeze gives incense a source to flare tonight.

Two glances are to be considered forbidden,
So I'll delay one glance into a stare tonight.

O Gihon, be as lucid in dreams as in verse,
And write a dream and avoid a nightmare tonight!

The tears I shed for you, all one by one,
Are more precious than moon or sun.
I hope they come alive at Judgment Day,
So they will intercede, before it's done.

The times of existential angst are done,
And so are times of reckless assumptions,
Pretentiousness of insecurities gone,
Along the astray ways, and their seductions.
I have become twenty-two, and my eyes
See differently; no darkness anymore,
They're open wide like rosy morning-skies,
With a steady gaze, brighter than before.
But I don't claim to know it all, no – never,
For I surely know that I do not know,
Seeking meanings with all my heart forever,
Making me human, and making me grow.
    There is much left to see, and learn, and sing,
    I'm curious; let's see what fate will bring.

My ears befriended the jackals of the streets,
And winsome naive angels made of sweets.

The debris of the broken buildings told much,
These places where no moonlight nor sunlight meets.

Look my dear friend, at the cheek of the night sky,
For eyes delights, by the homeless used as sheets.

Last night she blew the cherry-blossoms at me,
Who flew through the labels of race, tones and creeds.

Mahi, everyone seeks for the beloved,
But who is willing to get off golden-seats?

What's this desire for validity?
In every each step, each sigh, each look,
The rules of inner-peace, felicity,
Were never written down into the book.
Are my eyes deceiving me? I don't know,
Yet, many times I have trusted my insight,
Who makes me realize that it's all show,
Clearing the murky night like sinless moonlight.
My intentions are not to pierce the soul,
Unmask, expose this state, for that is rude,
I ask, and wonder much without control;
A sufferer knows sufferers quite good.
    Within each move you make I feel my pain,
    If you will lie, you'll make me look insane.

I'm from the
power pink sunsets
    with waving palm trees

I'm from the
bright computer screens
    who illuminate faces

I'm from the
pitched-down music
    with fading synths

I'm not from the 80's,
  nor from the 90's,
But from the 2000's:

I'm dreaming between them,
in reveries who're too ethereal
to describe.

She's adoring the skies who're with colors aglow,
While alone at the dusk who's rosaceous and blue,
As a child she is looking politely with charms,
And again with a camera to capture the view.

The world's unfair, and life is always tough,
It's hard to be a star through all this stuff.
I have no eye for someone's fame or honor,
My virtues are my life, and that's enough.

He talks because of endless ignorance,
Not that he has knowledge of any sort.
And every time he thinks he's in the right,
When just getting a bit of dumb support.

Throughout my life I have become more stronger,
Becoming twenty-three, it took me longer.
How great it would have been, with all this wisdom,
If I would only be some four years younger.

Sword and shield grants no one title of knight,
Neither pen and paper the skill to write.

The colorful tears of youth are the warmest,
The most lonely in a world you don't know,
Because you haven't been here for the longest
Time since birth, step by step we all did grow.

We're always struck by our uncertain stars,
While still opening up, trying to find
The answers of this life, with smiles and scars,
Praying in different ways they stay aligned.

O God, forgive the flowers of this world!
We are so young, and thus so flawed,
Forgive our faults; our cheeks are pearled,
While we're always by Your creation awed.

Let us all strive our best to reach our goal,
Before we're one day called back with our soul.

Sessizlik kovulur; bir yıldırım duyar yağmur,
Cennetten ince inciler gibi akar yağmur.

Aleme mal ile mülk sormadan ikram eder,
Birden gelir, birden verir, birden kaçar yağmur.

Beni terk ederse güneş ya terk ederse ay,
Hüzünlü yalnızlıkta beni kucaklar yağmur.

Semaların ahları sessiz sessiz duyarım,
Hüzün, bereket dünya içine katar yağmur.

Görmez açık elin renkleri ya işleri,
Güle kör, dikene kör; zira kör ağlar yağmur.

Efendi dervişe, namusuz katile verir,
Bilmez bir dindar ya bilmez bir günahkar yağmur.

Allahın Rahmeti sır gibi duyulmaz bazen,
Sessiz şakır şakır, ıslak ıslak akar yağmur.

El açık Rahmet Deryası semada bulunur,
Mis Gül Efendisi gibi Rahmet saçar yağmur.

They call me ‘’zealot’’ just for wanting peace,
I do not know what to do, who to please.

گفتم چرا این جلوه و ناز
گفت زیرا خواهید کرد نیاز

ز عشق تو پریشان کرد مرا ای ساقی مجلس
شراب ‏سون چارە بوندەدر ‏كە ‏سن اولمە غافل ها

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