Having collected some memories, the blues of Al-Magrib,
I settle. Having lost a tempest,
I salt.
Having discarded some winds,
I swoon.
The city, metal noised and smoked, is muted with my thoughts.
And the faces of old women with eyes of changing colours sit in their windows, a sea passes them
slow.
Bazı hatıralar toplamışken,
Magribin mavisi, yerleşirim.
Bir fırtınayı kaybet ...