Fashion - Style - Trendy

I came across a hut. Door of the hut was open. I rang the door out of curiosity. Sound did not come from the inside. Slowly I stood outside. The photos hanging on the walls of the hut, caught my eye. I've looked at many different photos of a couple of the moment for a long time. Most photo happy. The couple with the reluctant youth to old age there were many beautiful squares.

I went out of the hut. Is there anyone that I've been wandering around the hut. Caught my eye sitting in front of a grave of an old uncle. I did not want to bother. Where I stayed. The old uncle telling a folk song, functioning hearts. Türküyü finished just listened to. Türküyü finished looking at me, never called him to me. I went and sat on the other side of the grave. I noticed that photographs of people Uncle. Looking at the grave began to speak:

"O young boy, now you see the grave passion, life, my friend's grave. It opened our eyes to the world together. Nice to have invented, many had fun, we liked each other in many.'ve Built ourselves a small hut. Witnessed sevdamıza living here. I always had peace of mind, there was happiness all around . Together they promised sevdamla aging. However, when the black children showed the face of brutal here as anywhere. When the so-called concept of a long and winding path. Nice to intersect the path of man. sevdamla Our paths crossed by chance. Then, holding hands extended our way. grief, sorrow , promised to establish a world apart with injustice. Nice to have written, how many have read, we sang a nice, nice to have learned from each other. However, when the black children did not receive the promise that we chew our lives at the same time. yaşlanamadık sevdamla together. Hand in Hand holding is a need to expand the narrowing of the road we reached the point where and passion, the source of life in the tomb of kaybettim.O now speaks to me. Nice has been many years.'ll come here every day, her favorite song to sing, as if his hands by my side as tutarmış. He was my sleeper güzelimdi, his eyes now closed forever ... "
More elderly uncle went away without speaking. One could not say anything. I was at the beginning of the grave. I watched the tomb. I found myself humming to Favorite Kurdish. Was making a faint sound from my lips:

"Hêjîra Çiya ..." (Fig tree), he began.

Sleeping beauty kesitiydi post a story, it was like to listen to all ACEP? Unknown.