In the beautiful summer day
No one understands you,
Neither that heavenly way.
You can fly ten feet up and down,
Freedom is your dream, which you will never find.
That is the rule of life for you,
In a way it is for me too,
I am trying to fly just like you.
Dying for a very similar dream,
No one understands your searching scream.
The humans capture you for their cage,
It doesn’t matter how much you rage.
If you are still loving or hating the human beast,
Who will hear your cry-full complaining to the sky?
Flying, crying, forbidden, what use to try.
So as you and I are struggling against loveless taboo,
While fiscal of life passing away,
Is this a humanely, heavenly day?
Your flying dream and mine are wasted away.
You are in a physical; I am in a mental, cage
No one is hearing our earthly, heavenly rage.
Don’t cry a little, lovely Pratt, don’t cry,
For the sake of our dream I only pray to empty sky.
In your little metal cage, there’s no use to try.
In many ways life is a cruel game,
At the end of the day, our destiny is the same.
1997 in Turkey