We met my teacher, one day at Keskin, The year is nine hundred and eighty, when high school is over, His tender hands are always on us You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
A brother, a father, a guide, Literary, manners, always informative, He does not break anyone, he loves us, You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
We learned the sect, the way, in you, We have made a great education, Nasara yensuru, we remembered well, You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
It was a warm home, our course, His teacher is the cook, our parents, Our teacher made us love the case, You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
We lived the spring of youth beautifully, We wrote the Quran, fiqh, on the head, We are firmly attached to the Master, You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
Not once broke us, our teacher, Like a mother, a father, our teacher, An endless love, our cause, You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
He was not a teacher, our brother, Watching everyone, our pupil, Look, the years pass, our love increases, You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
Every year on rice, we run to you, You have a lot of labor, in the holy cause, It still serves, look in Ankara, You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
May my Lord be on our behalf, Our respect, our love, never diminish, Let us in heaven together, You have a lot of work, Niyazi Hodja.
15.06.2013-KIRIKKALE HÝDAYET DOÐAN
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