The material needs are doing away with spiritualism,
So many a mouth is wide open to swallow up.
Gosh!  What a harassment the shallow – minded are making!
And the harassed ones are burning.
The baldheaded are named long - haired.
Never can there be so deep a pocket,
Never can there be a slope with such a declivity,
Never can there be politics tainted with such a deceit.
No one can make out what is happening behind the curtain,
Here sorrows are deeply rooted;
Here happiness can not show up
Unless the black-veiled clouds weep,
The flower can not smile,
Grief can not wipe out tears.

Gold, like stars, is sparkling on the wrists and the necks,
The rich, like raining clouds, grow] wherever they go.
They murmur, like an incited dog on seeing a female wolf.
The stomachs of the poor, while twisting with hunger, do continually roar.
His child keeps crying at home,
The angel of sustenance in heaven giggles
While watching down on the  earth.
The frog is croaking 'in the pond,
The ravens are cawing in tie sky.
 

Who is saying there's no new subject, and I am looking around for a topic?
There're thousands of themes lying in every corner of our city.
At the age of forty he looks aged sitting by the street gutter,
Groans and curses pouring out from his lips.
With ten boxes of matches spread on a flat board,
Pretending to be selling them.
In the biting cold of winter, in the scalding heat of summer,
His cheeks thin and sunken fed tip with life.
 Saturated with dirt, a cotton hat is resting on his head.
The weed-like beard has covered up his withered face.
He looks as if he's drunk poison, feels its bitter taste,
He has neither a shop, nor money, nor a fire in his hearth.
These are no myths,
There are thousands lying exposed to the beholder's eyes.
Worries of his tomorrow are telling in his sullen features.
He's sitting in the lap of sorrow.
 

Let the rich khans and begs get 1-iale and hearty every day,
Let the khans lend support to the begs.
Let the black-intended, evil-faced people become exalted everywhere.
Bribery exceeded millions, so, many receiving grew accustomed to it.
Lobbying, mingled with bribery, became a part of it.
Again the past is revived, again affairs are tainted.
The hand fell short of attaining the right, the honest were disillusioned,
By Lord!  The rich got ahead in the world.
Two brothers became bitter enemies because of money,
They avoided each other.
The lips were sewed up.
The ears were boxed up.
One became neither true black nor true white,
In the end the leftist turned out to be the rightist.

"Payız Axşamı" is one of Yalqız's most picturesque poems, which, like a portrait, represents the beauties of nature and offers an evolutionary concept of life as a foothold of man. To him, the bitterness and disillusionment resulting from the transience of individual life is comparatively less significant than the  sweetness and hopefulness ensuing from the permanence of social life.

I'll freeze up in the winter of sensile age,
I'll whither up in the severe cold, changing into ice.
The snow storm will cover me up,
I'll get into stories, will become the word mouths.
My existence will thus come to its end,
No sign will remain visible as if I existed no more.
If my name outlives in the world,
My friends will commemorate existing no more.
Then after nature's winter,
There will come round spring replete with flowers and buds.
There will come nightingales to tie lawns, flowers to the gardens,
Ducks and geese to the ponds to swim,
As if a voice says "Don't stop, keep going."
Since the First Day your lute has been tuned such.
Aşıqlar" are still singing their songs:
"Your spring will come round in the future generation.
Death is not realized through transmuting into nonentity,
It is only a change in the garden of being.
In the coming days you will flower,
During the foggy morning of the spring."

Yalqız, like other true artists, tries not only to communicate through his poetry, but also seeks to interact with lofty ideas and themes in art and literature.  For example, he finds one of the themes used by the Colombian writer Gabriel Garcia Marquez very "stimulating."" For Yalqız, the "sensitizing concept" mentioned in The Ominous Hour, fits quite well with the doctrine of realism and reality in the world: The more powerful a man is, the more difficult it is for him to realize who is with him and who is against him.  In full power, he breaks away from reality entirely, and this is the worst form of loneliness.  A powerful person is surrounded by people whose ultimate objective is to alienate him from reality, pushing him further into isolation.
 

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