Rosy lips
your white hands
hold my hands, babe,
hold them a while.

In the village where I was born
no birch trees;
I pine for cool water, babe,
caress me a while.

In the village where I was born
no wheat stems,
toss your hair around, babe,
toss it around.

Where I was born
bandits prowl at night;
I hate loneliness, babe,
talk to me a while.

the village where I was born
only northern wind;
my lips are cracked, babe,
kiss them a while.

In the village where I was born
only sour faces;
I am shy and sad, babe,
make me laugh a while.

Your face like Anatolia is beautiful;
my village is beautiful too;
now you tell me about your village, babe,
tell me for a while.