Flower of Ruin

Flower of Ruin

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Category
Novel - Novel - Story , Publishers We Distribute
Author
Sultan Demiroglu
Stock
782 Piece
Stock code
DARA089
stock status
in stock
Publishers
Dara Publications
Price
11,17 USD + VAT
*starting from 1,57 USD!
%25 discount
11,17 USD
8,38 USD
Product information
Along the way, I became one with the sadness of the evacuated Yazidi villages. Broken doors, walls that are ruined on one side and standing upright on the other... Sparrows perched on the thin window panes, jumping and scattering sadness left and right, lamenting behind those who left; They never saw me, maybe they just saw me and ignored me. Bald trees in front of the houses with their broken branches stuck to the ground. I stopped in front of Afiye's house. It was like there was a force pulling me in. I came to the threshold of a door that does not exist. To the right of the door is a large bulghur pillar, a peacock carved on top of the pillar, the bird's wings are engraved on the stone and painted with colorful paint, it is as lively as if it had never been used. A pomegranate tree sheltered under the shade of a huge mulberry tree, split in half, one side leaning on the ground and the other leaning on a fig tree, as if they were trying to stand by embracing each other. The well next door was just a pile of dry leaves. The one meter tall wall built around the house seemed to protect the ruined house. The ceiling of the house was removed. Apparently they ripped out the trees. Tears have grooved the plaster from the bare walls, creating a huge chest at the entrance. The stove in the living room was still dark. Its chimney collapsed; It became a shelter for the birds that roosted on its shelves. One side of a broken wooden cradle sits in front of the stove. Windows embedded in the wall; Inside one of them is a torn child's slipper and a half-burnt rolling pin. It was as if there was an invisible death around. When I set out on the road, I realized that I had committed such a murder that I had killed my joy of life.
Publisher : Dara Publications
Number of pages : 264
Publication Year : 2021
ISBN : 9786257304139
Dimensions : 13.5*21
The heart : Turkish
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Kürtler için yapılmış güzel şeylerden bir tanesi
M... A... | 16/04/2025
siparişler hızlıca ulaşıyor, kategori çok. beğendim.
A... U... | 05/04/2025
Sizlerden gayet memnunum emeğinize sağlık
M... A... | 12/03/2025
Harikaydı
Serdar KÖMÜRCÜ | 22/01/2025
Gayet pratik ve hoş
Muzaffer Bora | 12/01/2025
Hızlı teslimat sağlandı .çok iyi bir şekilde bantlanmış teşekkürler. Gayet memnunum. Xwedê we bihêle .
A... Y... | 11/01/2025
&ddjmsd
RODEM ÇAÇAN | 06/01/2025
Sizi seviyorum Pırtukakurdi
Birsen KORKMAZ | 11/12/2024
Berbat
Sema Koç Soğancı | 29/11/2024
İsim yazılı kupa istedim kupada isim yok
F... D... | 09/11/2024
Share Your Experience
Flower of Ruin Along the way, I became one with the sadness of the evacuated Yazidi villages. Broken doors, walls that are ruined on one side and standing upright on the other... Sparrows perched on the thin window panes, jumping and scattering sadness left and right, lamenting behind those who left; They never saw me, maybe they just saw me and ignored me. Bald trees in front of the houses with their broken branches stuck to the ground. I stopped in front of Afiye's house. It was like there was a force pulling me in. I came to the threshold of a door that did not exist. To the right of the door is a large bulghur pillar, a peacock carved on top of the pillar, the bird's wings are engraved on the stone and painted with colorful paint, it is as lively as if it had never been used. A pomegranate tree sheltered under the shade of a huge mulberry tree, split in half, one side leaning on the ground and the other leaning on a fig tree, as if they were trying to stand by embracing each other. The well next door was just a pile of dry leaves. The one meter tall wall built around the house seemed to protect the ruined house. The ceiling of the house was removed. Apparently they ripped out the trees. Tears have grooved the plaster from the bare walls, creating a huge chest at the entrance. The stove in the living room was still dark. Its chimney collapsed; It became a shelter for the birds that roosted on its shelves. One side of a broken wooden cradle sits in front of the stove. Windows embedded in the wall; Inside one of them is a torn child's slipper and a half-burnt rolling pin. It was as if there was an invisible death around. When I set out on the road, I realized that I had committed such a crime that I had killed my joy of life. DARA089
Flower of Ruin

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