A white cloud over the dome of Aya Sofia,
I watched it disappear. My honey—coloured prayer beads,
The amber days, leaves and hopes fell.
Knots of autumn rain streamed down the windows.

These shrouding kaftans were mine,
Mine the horses' necks, the winds blew just right.
1 stroked the stones of the city walls,
Istanbul was mine, its bastions were like me.

I ate off gold plates, I drank water
From a gold cup, I crossed the raging Danube.
I am Sultan Mehmet, Avni, with the proud crest of arms.

Captured in a picture I am a dwarf, but that's not me,
My scentless rose, my turban, my cold fur,
I'm wildly searching and searching everywhere.