The most reliable thing on earth is sorrow- Αννα Αχμάτοβα

The one people once called... The one people once called King in jest, God in fact, Who was killed, and whose implement of torture Was heated by the warmth of my breast... The disciples of Christ tasted death, And the old gossips, and the soldiers, And the procurator from Rome — all gone. There, where once the arch rose, Where the sea splashed, where the cliff turned black, They were imbibed with the wine, inhaled with the stifling dust And the fragrance of immortal roses. Gold rusts and steel decays, Marble crumbles away. Everything is on the verge of death. The most reliable thing on earth is sorrow, And the most enduring — the almighty Word.

Στο δικό μου το χωριό τη λένε νοσταλγία

O gözler benim, ağlar Eskisinden yabancı Göynümdeki bu sevda Hiç dinmeyen bir acı Ruhumun kederinden Gözlerim yaşla doldu İnliyorum derinden Bana bilmem ne oldu En candan arkadaşım Ruhumu saran gece Ben kime bağlanmışım Ağlıyorum gizlice Kimsesiz karanlıklar Derdime şifa verin Kalbimdeki yaralar Daha çok, daha derin