It is I,

It is I,

The candle, the butterfly,

In one.

Infamous,

Foolish,

And lunatic.

Always intoxicated,...

And,

I know myself, not.

Homeless,

I roam, like breeze...

In love, in aberration,...

Endless night's

Burning candle,

It is I.

And,

I know myself, not.

Then,

It is I,

Cinders...

Of the butterfly...

And,

It is I,

The very blood,

In the heart of wineglass.

You,

You are the rapture in my songs,

I,

I am the nightly sigh...

Infamous,

Foolish,

Lunatic.
.......................


Oğuz Türk
2012