I know, one day when sitting at a park
A hand will touch my shoulders as rain
A pair of eyes, an invitation, a heart
I’ll leave everyone behind . . .
Leaves will fall, flowers will wither

There will be an autumn, a morning and a rain
With scents of the earth and of people,
In a howling drunkenness, for the years
I’ll leave, go on my own.

translated by Omer Kursat