I think the idiot is gone

Calling as idiot to someone who showed barely the thruts is the only way of poor creatures like you guys. You probably call Turkish Armed Forces as racists as well due to they've read an ATSIZ poem titled heroism instead of the traitor's' on every celebration of national days in Republic of Türkiye.

Don't you ?

Ben dahil, herkes senin salak olduguna karar verdi....ben seni uyarmistim.

Bence kendini daha fazla rezil etme...

Biz dediğin kim, bir araya gelmiş üç beş zavallı. Bence siz bu rezilliğinize sadece burada devam edin.

Ondan önce sen yukarıda sorduğum soruya cevap ver.

Ok we get that the two of you are Turkish. So please be man enough behind your words and at least write in English, so we can understand. :-S

For god's sake !
Can we have some privacy here?

Erlik, when you call a world famous poet a "traitor" or as "that dog", you shouldn't be surprized when somebody calls you an idiot.

Did you ever take your time and answer my questions? "Importing communism exclusively for me" doesn't answer my questions. I'd asked you some very logical questions and as it is common with you the greywolves, you did not even take them into consideration. What kind of a reasoning method are you using; is it something called "National Logic" following the examples of National Geography, National History - concepts added into school syllabuses by your nationalist ministers a few decades ago.

I think you will be left waiting Vineyards. Unfortunately darling Erlik does not answer questions. He only responds with further attacks - much like a rabid dog does

Forget the ideologies,taste the poem:

The Blue-Eyed Giant, the Miniature
Woman and the Honeysuckle


He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman.
The woman's dream was of a miniature house
with a garden where honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.

The giant loved like a giant,
and his hands were used to such big things
that the giant could not
make the building,
could not knock on the door
of the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
at that house.

He was a blue-eyed giant,
he loved a miniature woman,
a mini miniature woman.
The woman was hungry for comfort
and tired of the giant's long strides.
And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf
with a garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.

Now the blue-eyed giant realizes,
a giant isn't even a graveyard for love:
in the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house...


NAZIM HIKMET RAN

( Richard McKane )