Oh, The Temples That I Can't Fit In

Oh, the temples that I can't fit in,
The world will be your pain, without me too,
Neither tolerance nor reproach,
What am I exploiting,
What an exploit,
What a dictum,
The gravity of godless revelation, a spider's web,
A revolver separating office, a burgundy lipstick,
Returning to the shamar boy, the mustazaf, from kidnapping the abli,
The prostrations before Manat and Hubal,
Dressed for her competition, with the horses of Hades running through the magma,
Undress from myself,
I knew myself.
And all right,
The distrustful fate that compels a horse to sleep,
Relentless porch, half-open eyes,
The dirlik, which is renewed as it mingles with the sound of the horseshoe, on its nailed foot,
Zülfü falls on the face of the wind,
Even if time is running to Baghdad,
Blood,
Isn't she crazy to you again?

You took that trouble because of knowing,
Would you listen to the violent storm in your heart,
You kept the blockade through the night to break through,
You remember the wave that sank you,
Don't kidnap the abli, that exhausted expression on your face, you're so tired.