Kılıç Kınından Çıkmadıkça It Sürüsü Dağılmaz

The wandering people walk the earth as equals.
The sun rises, the wind blows, they mount and survey the path, golden valleys stop at the dark waters.
The messengers live with their people
To the sound of the kopuz.
Turkic people, be alive, be strong, be united,
I sought the ways of your winds, may there be light.