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find me worthy of the honour to fall inside a trench’s dent and die together with an
innocent village child.
Everyone bears his own cross. But reaching the bloody union (vuslat a union/reunion
with one’s beloved) at the top of Golgotha is granted only to Jesus. How many noble
dreams we dwell upon, how many sweet desires we nourish, but none of them comes
true. Wanting is not doing.
When I was eighteen years old I was a rebellious Anarchist. My greatest ambition
was to knock to the ground anyone with high authority or power. Then I wanted to be
the head of a revolution and to stir up the people’s masses like the wind’s swaying of
the forest. At my thirties I had abandoned all these, I had stopped believing in
anything and had left myself to corporeal pleasures. But from this flesh inflammation
I was kindled with a different kind of spiritual inflammation. A mystic love
enveloped my spiritual home like a burning flame. Burning with this flame I was
finding life and I was filling my tepid reclusion with visions reminiscence of the
waters of a clear spring. Here, from all these I reached the love for the nation and I
knew this time that it was so much better to die for the nation.
But in this new religion I knew that I myself was the prophet to myself. For this
reason my soul was in disarray like a congregation without an imam. Until I heard
His voice from the other side of the Anatolian uplands and I then knew the difference
between light and fire, rapture and fever. It was only under the order of this nation’s
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spiritual guide that I was rescued from burning in vain with barren fires and from
suffering in vain from convulsions which were wearing me out.
But alas. Because, arising from these sublime dreams I was in the middle of filthy
realities. Which bad wind threw me among flesh of men. What were these bestial
worshippers from whose mouth flows saliva doing near me? Why was I to witness
from so close the fortune and position seeking junk and vulgarity? of serveti ve
makami harisi kalabalığı bayalığı
What was the reason they formed such a tight hoop around the charlatans, the fools,
the jealous and the bad hearted and turn it with their own vanity? I want to shout to
all of these: ‘Get out of my way, disperse and leave me, let me be, let me find the
clear faced ghosts which filled my old solitude.
Let me be, let me find the noble Hero who takes me to the right path; let me reach
my heart’s great guide!’
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