I finally made it to your city,but I was late,
Samet,we couldn't get together:
I was late by the space of death.
I didn't want to hear your voiceon tape, samet --I can't look at pictures of the deadwithout totally dying.
But the day will comewhen I'll totally separate you from yourself,
Samet.
You'll enter the world of respectable memories.
And I'll lay flowers on your gravewithout tears in my eyes.
Then the day will comewhen what happened to youwill happen to me, too,
Samet.
