I’ll buy you six bay mares to put in your stable —
six golden apples bought with my pay.
I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune,
but I must be gone by the seventh day.

So come on, I’m the whistler.
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready for the whistler.
I whistle along on the seventh day —
whistle along on the seventh day.

All kinds of sadness I’ve left behind me.
Many’s the day when I have done wrong.
But I’ll be yours for ever and ever.
Climb in the saddle and whistle along.

So come on, I’m the whistler.
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready for the whistler.
I whistle along on the seventh day —
whistle along on the seventh day.

Deep red are the sun-sets in mystical places.
Black are the nights on summer-day sands.
We’ll find the speck of truth in each riddle.
Hold the first grain of love in our hands.

Tahsin Ünlü

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