Two tickets to the train of loneliness, tongues scorched in the same chant, they sit down, dig a well, it wasn't enough, their mind, called a human, sometimes doesn't know where to stay and what climate to put their hat on. he keeps wandering around his own field, has a slanted seed spilled? He does not know what to invent next year.
Their gaze turns to induction so that what they have taken from the whole does not come back, is life a medium that should be learned from, and is he the hero of this medium? He reads rooms full of books and has brace trees at his head. But life is hard to read in these climates, hugs the snake in his garden without lies... He adds longing scents to a rose red, and red and yellow arias fill his eyes...
Dönmez is the dry ghazals of the evenings, his sciatica, his vertigo, he hasn't taken the pill today, he tries to enjoy a life without cigarettes and sugar.
Get up, my valiant, a state will be established today, leave the squabbles that will be declared, skip your own internal fights, and hug the flag. Let this bondage end on the horizon of the irrevocable evening, gather your courage.
Write the story of being united and healthy together, from your own heart to your wrist, don't put your shoes on dry noises, smash all the spider webs to the ground...
This sofa was built hard, by dipping grape sherbet on dry leavened breads and if you are hungry, suppress your heart, bury your stomach wounds in your torn patched shirt, smile as if it never happened, and wrap it in the seeds of love, don't let despair be your first...
Even if you are a weak servant in the middle of this geography surrounded by locust swarms, there is freedom at the end, peace at the end, race with the awareness of it.
How happy it is to come into my homeland.