Oh Belhan, you Belhan! The story begins and ends with a messed up newlywed bride swallowing up youth and white veil, and spitting out bloodless you and him How happy you were back then, innocent boy, just pull up the accordion when someone is sad The bright red syrup apples on the journey swallowed the misery of life in dancing Oh, I remember the myths you told The white lime you sold was the breast of the mother of stones The mother of the forest quarreled with her and bit down that pair of maternal love You who were cast into the world, once as pure and white as lime! The mad uncle is the son of the sky and the earth The sun, the moon, the fire and the fog can't separate the heaven and the earth. His tragic silence turns into a profligate asthma, roaring and spitting out bloodshot veins and the wind blow away the happiness of the sky and the earth. The house that was demolished was a gypsy's house The turkey he stewed was your friend The girl he defiled was your faithful girl You may remember when you were most beautiful when you were just mature and the sky was Goose-yellow, the water is in flames The children wear emerald crowns You take your turkey friend And her soft hair has white flowers You and her lie in the boat and float on the river There is a mythical light in the mythical chants After shining, you were taken away, left your hometown, left your sister, left your neighbors singing for you, did you see the light of your hometown? The syrup apple that grandma filled for you was thrown to the ground in the rush of parting, and I will never forget that time when you were in Milan, burglarizing and playing the piano in an empty room You paralyzed yourself in life You burned in your dreams Once you have changed, you are feasting, you have mortgaged your trust, you have mortgaged yourself, but your debt is so heavy! You regret that you think of hell as a kingdom of heaven and the thief as your father and God You do not trust the girl you love You lost your mother again in her death So you went to Rome to find your sister's childhood but you can't continue your search Before your revenge, he said, "I'm a little angry for you, because you won't come back and you won't bring me back the accordion." The sister only said, just bring back a sponge for washing the pan for grandma. Gone you killed once father and god with gypsy magic his new wife blames you for ruining her whole youth buries you with guns in wandering trains and drifting corn your turkey friends to Fly and go to the God who is always untrustworthy, friend though you can no longer play the accordion when you are sad I wonder if you have seen your funeral and you are lying peacefully in your jeep
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