I shall never forget the day my ma died
Also the scenery of Marmara seas Seen from the top of the wall Picking up crushed peas I did not realize at all Those red shoes waiting behind me I met a writer He gave yemek to me Under the orange sun, I tottered Wishing time could rewind for me The day he brought me up to the walls The kindness and grace I received Within the walls of Constantinople From the writer King Who died by a stranger's blade
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Under the red umbrella she walks
High and tall with pride In extravagance she dresses She is the greatest puzzle With each man she loves With each man she acts To all, she provides affections Like a fox, she casts her spell Like a crocodile, she sheds her tear Conquerring the red district, She spreads her red web One day, she speaks of truth She is trapped in net of love However, from all men... Who does she truly love? |
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