I searched myself but found you

How long have I been on the edge of silence and speech, sound and silence?

For how long, on the line where birth and death meet, autumns and winters of loneliness have passed through my palm lines.

The frost of my inability to be a shadow is on my breath.

For a long time, I missed getting lost in crowded cities with a flurry of children. But no city is big enough for me to get lost anymore. I turned my face, to the cities of my heart, at the intersections of the stories I wrote or could not write, only you were there. I searched myself but found you.

O Love, I said to the cheek of the lit candle: Do not let go of my hand!

We can now descend into the heart of a river. Because they kept silent about us and forgot our faces.

Let's go to our bosom, our brightest star. We can take a breather in the mountain ravines after a traveler who is wet with grief to his feathers. We can lie down and forget everything with our mother half in the bosom of a cave.

All living things sing of you in the voice of your heart,

You are mysterious, invisible beyond existence,

You equip the universe to its unfathomable secret.

You have cemal, in the bosom of the butterfly, the ear,

You are mysterious, invisible beyond existence.

There was no one, there was you, when the continents of my heart were breaking. O Love, only rain opens the iron locks of my face and my hands tremble only on your threshold. Because while your shirt is buttoned with fire; I shook the sadness of Adam in the cradle of the floods. O my farthest ages, my coldest winters, while I was cold in the glacier of your sharp gaze, I hid in your saddlebag like an old map.

O, if the temple of the fire that I am caught in the fire is to circulate in the wear of silence, tell me the color of love drawn on my forehead.

O white dove, tell the depth of the skies with the tongue of the wings. Tell your ranges, in the revolving spheres of the sky.

The faces turned pale by patience and tell the lovers that there is no death.

Merciful Lord, your sun rises wide,

The waters evaporated on the ground gleefully cry into the sky,

There is a revolving world that catches up with every living thing.

Your love for beautiful hearts, rain falls on the ground,

The waters that evaporate on the ground greet the sky with enthusiasm.

Tell me about the tulip, how to burn silently and love unconditionally. Giving the sherbet to the weeper, sipping on the ag, and being able to smile like that. Tell about the seasons of love, how it rains and actually snow burns.

First, tell us that you came to our room like a guest with a bad news, and then you left like him.

That man is not left in a state. Say don't be afraid: the curtain has lifted, the lover sees not himself, but the beloved in the mirror of the heart; one soul remains, an apocalyptic moment; everything is taken away.

Speak in the language of fire. There's the language of the fire that doesn't burn anymore as it burns! Tell it from the lips that do not speak bad words, from the language of those who do not destroy the province of the heart. Show me through the curtains behind your smiling eyes, your absence is the greatest treasure;

Show us everything called existence is a lie. Tell them in the language of verses, who tear off masks that fit faces with a single touch, who create evil in good and good in bad.

A mountain of reluctant deeds, the roads getting longer. Tell in the language of those who live in the moment. A year is a moment, a moment is a thousand years. And say: There is no curtain for those who set their minds on the path. Tell it in the language of the hymns that make the distances close.

Vuslat is the greatest of separation; the one who is in love grows from the roots to the heavens. The lover has what he can and cannot do with the earth, he is beyond with the tune of eternity with his eyes fixed on the sky.

O land of the heart, which is spring with rains of tears!

The story that keeps the mystery in your heart that those who say it don't know and those who know do not tell

The reason for the creation of the universe, O most secret, obvious and most beautiful love!

Tell me about those who gave their lives to this secret.