Without making you feel at all

In lands very distant from you

I raised flowers which you like

I know

I left you by yourself

With unforgettable memories…
Every so often

You felt uneasy

Because of my badly digested words

You stayed sleepless…

During successive days

I dragged you towards mornings without a sun

I was in these pages.
I hurt you with touching songs which I liked

I touched you with my poems

Again and again, I drenched you

With my feelings…

I was in these pages.
I often took you for walks

On the most populated streets

Of Istanbul

With your heart beating

Your beliefs and acknowledgments moulded time

Behind blurred window panes…

I was in these pages.
The sky was different

Light was acid

Avenues were without people

Streets were without soul

When I lost you

In the stopping of a bus…

I was in these pages.
I made you wait until mornings

On the streets of Istanbul

I made you tremble in full jolts while you dreamed

During your sighs I threw your shades

Into seas

On blank pages I wrote that I love you…

I made your drawings

On all the walls of the city…

I was in these pages.