In the Orchards

In the orchards with their flowering gardens

like the old times, we’ll raise the dance

and invite Death 

to drink and sing with us.

Take the clarinet and oboe

and I’ll come with my little baglama ..

Ah, and I’ll come too...

You took me in the fire of battle, Death,

let’s go to the orchards and dance.

In the orchards, with their flowering gardens

if I beat you, Death,  at the wine drinking

if I beat you at the dancing and singing

then grant me a night of life.

Take heart, sweet mother

I am the lad who returned for one glance from you.

Ah, for one glance...!

When I left for the Front, mother

you didn’t come to see me.

You were working for strangers and I took the train alone

the one that carried me out of life....