I can’t make head or tail of this life with so many puzzles and riddles, it’s rife enigma within enigma, intertwined with mysteries discarded, tainted and misty yesterday shrouded in twisted histories
Neither a sinner with an obscure future nor a saint with a concealed past scarred with vices and blessed with virtues I seized a moment to pause and reflect, at last but just when I started to have roseate glimpses sadly, I saw that the die had been cast
Ýdris ESEN, December, 2012, Üsküdar
War of words is like barking at birds flying in the sky, whereas words of war are like dark clouds gathering over the mountains. Ý. Esen
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İDRİS ESEN Åžiirleri
(c) Bu şiirin her türlü telif hakkı şairin kendisine ve/veya temsilcilerine aittir.