Do you still prefer those baby blue sweaters, Red umbrellas and yellow hair? Do you still wear the same old summer fragrance that haunts me? Or have you changed it for the man you have coffee with?

She robs me of my imagination, The symptoms are clear when she is near, My eyes won’t allow me to speak, Its even hard to describe her sins, Oh the August child and her innocence…

Worship the withered, Leave alone the grief, There is wisdom in nature’s prudence. These emotions are our own conclusion…

She is the translation of silence, A symphony of the sea, She is best understood without words, Like the prefigure of spring, She is a meaning never heard…

And petite Neslihan, She is the smile on the face of Earth, A child of Renaissance, God took more time to carve her than you and me, She can be anything to anyone, She is the Eden in blossom, The pleasure is to watch her, Not to touch, For I fear to pollute the divine, Oh she is an art unfolding…

I need to hurry for I fear to run out of life. For I know I am dealing with a princess here, So teach me how to love you best, Grow on me as I grow on you…

Every memory either good or bad, Makes us a slave of an ever increasing past, But bondage is life’s eternal message, The real freedom is in her chains…

From one pain to another, I walked down a path, I thought I knew so well and how? Another lover leaving without a goodbye…

Meet me eye to eye, Let the feelings multiply, No more fear, we are near, Hand in hand, Chained by love forever…