Derman tükenir gibi olunca, o kalır yanında,
Yıldızları sayarken gecede,ışığı o, ay’ı o.
Küskün gönüllere merhem,yolunu kaybedene pusula,
Sabret,çünkü her kışın ardında bir bahar saklı.

As long as the swamp stops there,
Does the fly ever run out?
Those who ignore the problem
The eye is always curtained, the inside is never cooked.

The solution is not far away, actually,
It takes a step of courage;
They still haven't dried up the swamp,
So the fly ends again every night.

They didn't dry the swamp,
They are dealing with mosquitoes;
When you can solve the problem from the root
They throw stones at his shadow.

The water is cloudy, the road is dark,
The truth is screaming from a distance;
There is a wound in the deep, actually,
But they're fooling with the dressing.

There is nothing a woman cannot do,
As long as his faith leaks out of him,
He wants the heart.

As soon as you get hurt by fire,
As soon as the storm passes;
He takes the world into his hands
Yet it doesn't hurt the heart, it doesn't break it.

It carries love, and it carries the burden,
Builds the nest, draws the path;

There is nothing a woman cannot do,
As long as there is light in your heart;
The wind will come,
The mountain will come to the ground, let it be a stop.

Allah’tan korkmayanın
Yüzü kızarmaz elbet;
Ne kul hakkından utanır,
Ne bir duanın kıymetinden.

Ama bilen bilir ki,
Sessiz sedasız işler adalet;
Kırık bir kalbin ahı
En derin yerden yakalar nihayet.

O yüzden insan,
En çok kendi içinden sorulur;
Allah’tan korkanın yüzü
Her daim nurla yoğrulur.

www.sozcu.com.tr/5-tl-nin-son...

Ne zaman baksak göğe, seni görürüz,
Masmavi gözlerinle ufukta.
Ölüm ki sadece bir beden alır,
Fikirlerin sonsuza dek yaşar bu yurtta.

For neither faith, nor God, nor heavenly commandment,
Only the voice of fear restricts freedom.
And the actual temple is where equality is built,
There is neither a priest nor a master, but only a human being is seen.

But there is a stubborn spirit, under the marble stone,
A water that resists thousands of years of oppression.

Written by male hand, read in male language,
A network of rules, a narrow windpipe.
That heavy burden, called "sin," is always placed on the woman,
It's like they're all the concession of the sky.

The same wall, the same shadow for centuries,
Where loud sermons echo.
In the dusty pages of holy books,
It's like a forbidden fruit, the woman's name is mentioned.

Cumhuriyet nefes alır her duvarda.
Senin çizdiğin yolda, aydınlık burda,
İlkelerinle yürüyoruz, her adımda.
​Ne zaman baksak göğe, seni görürüz,
Masmavi gözlerinle ufukta.
Ölüm ki sadece bir beden alır,
Fikirlerin sonsuza dek yaşar bu yurtta.

The language of the universe is silent, but the word is deep,
He is always in love with a stubborn heart.
That heart that does not bow down refuses to stop,
It trembles alone against thousands of stars.