Under the lamp post, around the corner

Will you find me? That's where you find me

They think I am lost, it doesn't matter

I do not need -them- to break this sharp silence

With their pitiful eyes and forced chatter

Among the trees on the sideway, between the signs blurring

Will you search me? That's where you search me

I hear a half-hearted pray, faith is a fickle thing

Of all the things you can do without

It is the first to strand you at a pendulum's swing

On the fuming asphalt, in a field of corn

You should find freedom. That’s where you find freedom

Your concrete vault, the bypassers' hasty scorn

It's all far away now

You are as good as new born

The fresh cut grass, wing of a butterfly

You should start over. This is where you start over

Watching the horizon with a glass of wine and fresh baked apple pie

Sleeping on the rooftop craddled in the moonlight

While every night sing me a new lullaby

In a soft breeze, beyond the river

Will you taste the joy? That's where you taste the joy

The warm tease of setting sun and evening shiver

Distant memory of a mother calling to her child

And you wish you could stay in this moment forever

Sema Nur Ketenci