<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123</id><updated>2011-09-09T03:48:02.970+03:00</updated><category term='Şarkı sözü'/><title type='text'>Alone Abroad</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>165</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-3500028156892709429</id><published>2007-04-23T19:12:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:19:12.100+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Şarkı sözü'/><title type='text'>Ağlamam Artık . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xbm29XnXVp0/RizcC3bSbCI/AAAAAAAAABY/-_Q3Hjcu31Y/s1600-h/when_we_were_young_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xbm29XnXVp0/RizcC3bSbCI/AAAAAAAAABY/-_Q3Hjcu31Y/s320/when_we_were_young_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056658423426477090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Ben ne çok hata yapmışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Gözüm kapalı bakmışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                            &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Yıllar geçmiş ben saymışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Dostum sanıp aldanmışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Yıllarca sürer sanmışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Boşa kalbimi açmışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Vakit kaybıydı diyemem ama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Sen hiç dostum olmamışsın meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Olsun varsın pişman değilim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Biraz üzüldüm hepsi bu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Ağlamam artık gidenlere, ağlamam artık bitenlere        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Ağlamam artık üzenlere, ihanet edenlere                 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Ben ne çok hata yapmışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Seni yokken var saymışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                            &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Yollar gitmiş ben kalmışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Aşkım deyip hapsolmuşum meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Bir ömür sürer sanmışım meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Ben boşa kürek çekmişim meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Vakit kaybıydı diyemem ama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                            &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Senden çoktan vazgeçmişim meğer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-3500028156892709429?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3500028156892709429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=3500028156892709429&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/3500028156892709429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/3500028156892709429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2007/04/alamam-artk.html' title='Ağlamam Artık . . .'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xbm29XnXVp0/RizcC3bSbCI/AAAAAAAAABY/-_Q3Hjcu31Y/s72-c/when_we_were_young_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-116913173296204252</id><published>2007-01-18T16:47:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T16:48:53.116+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fast And The Furious Tokyo Drift </title><content type='html'>&lt;table xmlns="http://purl.org/atom/ns#" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;embed flashvars="autoplay=true" id="VideoPlayback" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=547396106479095127&amp;amp;hl=en" style="width:400px; height:326px;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr/&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;I love the Music :)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-116913173296204252?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/116913173296204252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=116913173296204252&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/116913173296204252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/116913173296204252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2007/01/fast-and-furious-tokyo-drift.html' title='The Fast And The Furious Tokyo Drift '/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-116501429086782240</id><published>2006-12-02T00:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-12-02T01:04:50.993+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my Ziki ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ziki.com"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4130/607/400/599949/zikiii.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-116501429086782240?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/116501429086782240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=116501429086782240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/116501429086782240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/116501429086782240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-love-my-ziki.html' title='I love my Ziki ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-116095212046829262</id><published>2006-10-16T01:40:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T03:30:36.660+03:00</updated><title type='text'>başlıksız</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/jjj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/400/jjj.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-116095212046829262?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/116095212046829262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=116095212046829262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/116095212046829262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/116095212046829262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/10/balksz.html' title='başlıksız'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115792499826876415</id><published>2006-09-11T00:46:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T14:58:52.683+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Seni Seviyorum</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seni seviyorum çünkü alın yazımın tek okunaklı yerisin…&lt;br /&gt;seni seviyorum çünkü yaşama sebebimsin…&lt;br /&gt;Seni seviyorum çünkü senle ben Enigma dinlemeye bayılıyoruz…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;senin kokunu, senin sesini, gelmişini, geçmişini, tutmayın beni seviyorum ulan seni…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seviyorum ulan seni;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seni seviyorum&lt;br /&gt;yalan söylemeye ihtiyacın yok&lt;br /&gt;seni seviyorum&lt;br /&gt;yalan söylememe gerek yok&lt;br /&gt;seni seviyorum&lt;br /&gt;baskasının özgürlüğünün basladıgı yerde seninki bitiyor&lt;br /&gt;seni seviyorum&lt;br /&gt;yozlaşmadıgın hala insanlara gülebildiğin için&lt;br /&gt;seni seviyorum&lt;br /&gt;hakkını aramakla birlikte baskalarının haklarına saygı gösteriyorsun&lt;br /&gt;seni seviyorum&lt;br /&gt;bakışın, gülüşün, sesin, yüzün ve de saçların çok güzel…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Bu siyah beyaz dünyada tek renk sensin,&lt;br /&gt;Bir ressamın fırçasından çıkmış gibi …&lt;br /&gt;Ama alalade bir renk değil,&lt;br /&gt;Gökkuşağının her tonunu gölgede bırakan bir renk …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Bu soğuk günde içimi ısıtan bir esinti gibisin …&lt;br /&gt;Hafiften esiyorsun, iliklerime işleyerek …&lt;br /&gt;Sonra da kaybolup gidiyorsun, daha nereden geldiğini&lt;br /&gt;Anlayamadan …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Sevmekten başka bir şey gelmiyor içimden …&lt;br /&gt;O kadar doğal ki bu duygu ruhumun derinliklerinde,&lt;br /&gt;Sanki doğduğumdan beri var …&lt;br /&gt;Sadece ortaya çıkmak için seni bekliyordu …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Sensiz bir yaşamı artık düşünemiyorum …&lt;br /&gt;Sensiz bu kuru dünyada yaşamaktansa,&lt;br /&gt;ölümün soğuk nefesini öpmeyi&lt;br /&gt;bir daha hiç seni görmemektense hayata arkamı dönmeyi&lt;br /&gt;tercih ederim …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Ne zaman bir aşk şiiri duysam, mısralardan sen akıyorsun …&lt;br /&gt;Ne zaman eski bir şarkı gelse kulağıma,&lt;br /&gt;Gitar telleri arasından süzülen notalar, seni getiriyor bana …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sen hep benimlesin …&lt;br /&gt;Gözümü kapatmam yeterli seni görmem için …&lt;br /&gt;Tatlı narin tenini …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Gözlerinin içinde binlerce yıldız,&lt;br /&gt;Gecenin karanlığını delip geçiyor …&lt;br /&gt;Bana bakarken kendimi yıldızlara tepeden bakıyor gibi hissediyorum …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Benliğim sana ait …&lt;br /&gt;Sen onu buruşturup çöpe de atabilirsin,&lt;br /&gt;Kalbine yakın bir yere de koyabilirsin …&lt;br /&gt;Tanrım !!!&lt;br /&gt;O kalbine yakın bir yerde olmak istiyorum …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Sen sensin …&lt;br /&gt;Ama sen beni ben olduğum için seviyor musun&lt;br /&gt;Onu kim bilir …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Sevmeyi Seviyorum …&lt;br /&gt;Seni koklamayı seviyorum …&lt;br /&gt;Sana dokunmayı seviyorum …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Saçların ellerimin arasından kayıp giderken,&lt;br /&gt;Dünyada cenneti bulmuş gibiyim …&lt;br /&gt;Bir an elimde tutuyorum o cenneti …&lt;br /&gt;Bir an sonra belki de tamamen ellerimden kayıp gidecek …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Ben hiç bir erkek için şiir yazmadım, bu hep tuhaf gelmişti …&lt;br /&gt;Ama şimdi senin için şiir yazmamak tuhaf geliyor …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;İçimde bir umut var …&lt;br /&gt;Bu şiiri belki başucuna koyarsın …&lt;br /&gt;Kim bilir belki yanına da ‘’Kırmızı'’ bir gül …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Tanrı çiçekleri yaratırken seni de onlarla beraber yaratmış …&lt;br /&gt;Papatyadan güzel,&lt;br /&gt;Zambaktan asil,&lt;br /&gt;Manolyadan tatlı,&lt;br /&gt;Gülden daha güzel kokulu …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Ölene kadar, yok olana kadar seninle olsam,&lt;br /&gt;Bu herhalde bir ceza gibi gelir,&lt;br /&gt;Daha çok senle olamadığım için …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Senin tarafından Sevilme fikri bile bir insanı hayatı boyunca&lt;br /&gt;mutlu edebilecek kadar güzel ve asil …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Senin gülümsemen güneşin doğuşu gibi,&lt;br /&gt;İnsana her şeyi unutturuyor,&lt;br /&gt;Sadece seyredip tadına varma hissi uyandırıyor …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni Seviyorum, Çünkü;&lt;br /&gt;Bu kadar nedenden sonra bile SENİ ne kadar SEVDİĞİMİ anlatamadım !!!&lt;br /&gt;Seni seviyorum çünkü seni sevmek için illa bir nedenimin olması gerekmiyor…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni seviyorum Selin…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115792499826876415?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115792499826876415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115792499826876415&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115792499826876415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115792499826876415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/09/seni-seviyorum.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;Seni Seviyorum&lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115792324359205186</id><published>2006-09-11T00:19:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T13:20:26.764+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Aşk</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Sen benim ulaşamadığımsın, ulaşamadığım halde vazgeçemediğim. Sen benim dokunamadığımsın, dokunamasam da uzaklaşamadığım. Sen benim en yakınımda olansın, en yakınımda olup da uzaklarda duranımsın. Sen benim konuşamadığımsın, hiç susmadığım halde bir şey söyleyemediğimsin. Sen benim anlayamadığımsın, bu kadar çok bilip de çözemediğimsin. Sen benim göremediğimsin, bakıp da kör olduğumsun. Sen benim, bilip de söyleyemediğim, bakıp da göremediğim, dokunup da hissedemediğim, duyup da dinleyemediğimsin. Sen benim anlatılmaz bir sevgiyle sevip de, sevemediğimsin…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115792324359205186?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115792324359205186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115792324359205186&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115792324359205186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115792324359205186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/09/selin.html' title='Aşk'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115783585688954603</id><published>2006-09-09T23:58:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T16:07:56.613+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ÇocuklaR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/navidtabrizi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/navidtabrizi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/4095656-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/4095656-lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/45_8b20a_45576e42_oj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/45_8b20a_45576e42_oj.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/4111231-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/4111231-lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/4367599-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/4367599-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/4040941-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/4040941-lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3985221-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3985221-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3940774-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3940774-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3880155-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3880155-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3803550-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3803550-lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115783585688954603?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115783585688954603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115783585688954603&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115783585688954603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115783585688954603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/09/ocuklar.html' title='ÇocuklaR'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115662691108786227</id><published>2006-08-27T00:14:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T00:15:11.173+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ölünce Sevemezsem Seni</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.odeo.com/flash/audio_player_standard_gray.swf" quality="high" width="300" height="52" name="audio_player_standard_gray" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="always" wmode="transparent"  type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="audio_id=1781651&amp;audio_duration=287.06&amp;valid_sample_rate=true&amp;external_url=http://media.odeo.com/4/3/7/AYNA_-_Olunce_Sevemezsem_Seni.MP3" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115662691108786227?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115662691108786227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115662691108786227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115662691108786227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115662691108786227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/08/lnce-sevemezsem-seni.html' title='Ölünce Sevemezsem Seni'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115585600418623464</id><published>2006-08-18T02:06:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T13:19:25.876+02:00</updated><title type='text'>About Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Sing as if no one is listening&lt;br /&gt;Dance as if no one is watching&lt;br /&gt;Love as you've never loved before&lt;br /&gt;Live as if heaven is here on the earth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is called : Navid&lt;br /&gt;duty : Blog Moderator&lt;br /&gt;he is : 26 Years Old&lt;br /&gt;made in : Iran&lt;br /&gt;ethnicity: caucasian (white)&lt;br /&gt;languages i speak: English ,Persian ,Türkish ,French ,Arabic&lt;br /&gt;political view : not political&lt;br /&gt;humor : friendly&lt;br /&gt;fashion : smart&lt;br /&gt;smoking : occasionally&lt;br /&gt;drinking : no&lt;br /&gt;pets : i like them at the zoos&lt;br /&gt;living : alone ,Turkey&lt;br /&gt;music : rock&lt;br /&gt;occupation : IT&lt;br /&gt;industry : High Tech&lt;br /&gt;company : Tabrizi Web Art Center&lt;br /&gt;eye color : brown&lt;br /&gt;hair color : dark brown&lt;br /&gt;build : a few extra pounds&lt;br /&gt;Email : webmaster@tabriziweb.com&lt;br /&gt;URL : &lt;a href="http://www.tabriziweb.com" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.tabriziweb.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blog : &lt;a href="http://navidtabrizi.blogspot.com"&gt;navidtabrizi.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; ; &lt;a href="http://navidseyda.blogspot.com"&gt;navidseyda.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; ; &lt;a href="http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com"&gt;alone-abroad.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Call me Navid. Some years ago--never mind how long precisely, nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world." The previous quote, a bit modified, was from Melville’s Moby Dick, as some of you might have noticed. Since the quote, ever so perfectly, captures my state of mind while having left my home country and exploring the New World, I decided to have it as the opening sentence on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is more challenging to create a blog about oneself than it seems at first. People tend to say some peculiar things when they describe themselves or their lives; some try too hard, some make fools out of themselves. I will try my best not to make the same mistakes, however, also remember that reading this is voluntary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say that again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been told that I have a colorful personality and perhaps that is why my friends have given me more nicknames than I can remember. A-Man, Ivy's Bitch (if you were not there, never mind), Party Animal, Ali, Dostum, and Smooth are some of the ones that I recall at the first hand. As you can probably guess, each nickname has its own saga to go with it. However, for those who are not familiar with the stories, "Navid" works fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the full story from my &lt;a href="http://navidtabrizi.blogspot.com"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;... &lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115585600418623464?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115585600418623464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115585600418623464&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115585600418623464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115585600418623464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/08/about-me.html' title='About Me'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115434294159120361</id><published>2006-07-31T13:46:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T13:49:02.646+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Evet!2 gün yoğun gezinin ardından Türkiyeye geri döndüm,ilginç,ilk kez özlemiştim buraları,Yunanistan sandığımdan daha da güzeldi...&lt;br /&gt;Cold Fusion konserinden bisürü resim çektim,ama,Kameramı bulamıyorum,heralde çaldılar:( Cep telile de bikaç resim çekmiştim çok yakında bloğumda yayınliyacağım:)&lt;br /&gt;Herşey çok iyi gidiyor,Avrupa birliğininin desteğini aldık projemiz için:)&lt;br /&gt;Yarın sabah izmirdeyiz,akşam da Antep'e gidiyoruz,ZeugmA için!Herşey iyi olacak...&lt;br /&gt;Bu arada bi süre yazamadığım için,özürdilerim(hemenhemen bloğun açılışından beri:)&lt;br /&gt;SmyrnA bloğu için çok yoğun bi çalışma içerisindeyim,tasarımını kompile değiştiriyorum,ve...Smyrna bloğunun değerli yazarı aramıza geri döndü,teşekkür ederim gerçekten&lt;br /&gt;SABAHTAN GÖRDÜM SENI&lt;br /&gt;ÇOK BEYAZ GELDIN BANA&lt;br /&gt;KONAKTA MI BÜYÜDÜN&lt;br /&gt;OY OY EMINE'M&lt;br /&gt;GÜNES ÇARPMAMIS SANA&lt;br /&gt;GÜNES ÇARPMAMIS SANA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PARMAGINDA YÜZÜKLER&lt;br /&gt;KOLUNDA BILEZIKLER&lt;br /&gt;OY SANA DOLANAYIM&lt;br /&gt;OY OY EMINE'M&lt;br /&gt;NEDIR BU GÜZELLIKLER&lt;br /&gt;NEDIR BU GÜZELLIKLER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VARDIR GÜZEL YAYLALAR&lt;br /&gt;HAMSIKÖY'ÜN BASINDA&lt;br /&gt;ALIR KAÇARIM SENI,&lt;br /&gt;OY OY EMINE'M&lt;br /&gt;ONÜÇ ONDÖRT YASINDA&lt;br /&gt;ONÜÇ ONDÖRT YASINDA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BIR KURSUN ATACAGIM&lt;br /&gt;BELINDEKI KUSAGA&lt;br /&gt;BABAN VERMEDI SENI&lt;br /&gt;OY OY EMINE'M&lt;br /&gt;BENIM GIBI USAGA&lt;br /&gt;BENIM GIBI USAGA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning I saw you&lt;br /&gt;You looked very white to me&lt;br /&gt;Did you grow up in konak&lt;br /&gt;Oii, Oii, Eminem&lt;br /&gt;The sun did not hit you&lt;br /&gt;The sun did not hit you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helee, rings on your fingers&lt;br /&gt;Bracelets on your arms&lt;br /&gt;Oii let me wrap around you&lt;br /&gt;Oii, Oii, Eminem&lt;br /&gt;What are all these beauties&lt;br /&gt;What are all these beauties&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are beautiful yayla’s&lt;br /&gt;In the head of hamsikoy&lt;br /&gt;I will take you and escape&lt;br /&gt;Oii, oii, eminem&lt;br /&gt;Thirteen fourteen years old&lt;br /&gt;Thirteen fourteen years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will fire a bullet&lt;br /&gt;To the belt on your waist&lt;br /&gt;Your father did not give you&lt;br /&gt;Oii, oii, eminem&lt;br /&gt;To an usak like me&lt;br /&gt;To an usak like me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115434294159120361?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115434294159120361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115434294159120361&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115434294159120361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115434294159120361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/07/evet2-gn-youn-gezinin-ardndan-trkiyeye.html' title=''/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115203419973385592</id><published>2006-07-04T20:29:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T20:30:00.496+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Jokes</title><content type='html'>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asked, "What is a contingent fee?" a lawyer answered, "A contingent fee to a lawyer means, if I don't win your suit, I get nothing. If I do win it, you get nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A group of terrorists hijacked a plane full of lawyers. They called down to ground control with their list of demands and added that if their demands weren't met, they would release one lawyer every hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small town that cannot support one lawyer can always support two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the difference between a lawyer and a boxing referee?&lt;br /&gt;A boxing referee doesn't get paid more for a longer fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arguing with a lawyer is like mud wrestling with a pig: after a while you realize that the pig actually enjoys it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two kinds of lawyers, those who know the law and those who know the judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day after a verdict had been entered against his client, the lawyer rushed to the judge's chambers, demanding that the case be reopened, saying: "I have new evidence that makes a huge difference in my client's defence."&lt;br /&gt;The judge asked, "What new evidence could you have?"&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer replied, "My client has an extra $10,000, and I just found out about it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning Signs that you Might Need a Different Lawyer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He tells you that his last good case was a Budweiser.&lt;br /&gt; When the prosecutors see who your lawyer is, they high-five each other.&lt;br /&gt; He picks the jury by playing "duck-duck-goose."&lt;br /&gt; He tells you that he has never told a lie.&lt;br /&gt; A big sign in his office says: "Don't ask me."&lt;br /&gt; A prison guard is shaving your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How lawyers do it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Lawyers do it with appeal.&lt;br /&gt;Lawyers do it confidentially.&lt;br /&gt;Lawyers do it on a trial basis.&lt;br /&gt;Lawyers do it until justice prevails.&lt;br /&gt;Lawyers do it as long as you can pay them.&lt;br /&gt;Lawyers do it unless it is prohibited by law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    You Might Be a Lawyer if...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are charging someone for reading these jokes. &lt;br /&gt;you believe that a forty words' sentence is a short one. &lt;br /&gt;you have a daughter named Sue and a son named Bill. &lt;br /&gt;you can look at a contract and instantly tell whether it's verbal or written. &lt;br /&gt;your other car is a BMW. &lt;br /&gt;when you look in a mirror, you see a lawyer. &lt;br /&gt;when your wife says "I love you," you cross-examine her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115203419973385592?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115203419973385592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115203419973385592&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115203419973385592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115203419973385592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/07/jokes.html' title='Jokes'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115198065704154179</id><published>2006-07-04T05:36:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T05:37:37.460+03:00</updated><title type='text'>YAZIK OLDU YARINLARA ...</title><content type='html'>Hatırlar mısın bilmem yıllar geçti üstünden&lt;br /&gt;Yağmurlu bir akşamdı söyledim sevgimi ben&lt;br /&gt;Belki yağmurdu bilmem süzülen gözlerinden&lt;br /&gt;Utanmış, kızarmıştın, kaçmıştın gözlerimden&lt;br /&gt;Yarınlar...Yarınlar... bizim demiştin&lt;br /&gt;Yarınlar...Yarınlar... bizim demiştin&lt;br /&gt;Yazık oldu yarınlara avunurum anılarla&lt;br /&gt;Hani nerde ümitlerim hepsi sanki bir rüya&lt;br /&gt;Hani biz bir bütündük su ile toprak gibi&lt;br /&gt;Döküldük dile düştük bir solmuş yaprak gibi&lt;br /&gt;Tanrıdan dileğim bu sevenler sevilenler&lt;br /&gt;Yarını bekleyenler olmasın bizim gibi&lt;br /&gt;Yarınlar...Yarınlar... bizim demiştin&lt;br /&gt;Yarınlar...Yarınlar... bizim demiştin&lt;br /&gt;Yazık oldu yarınlara avunurum anılarla&lt;br /&gt;Hani nerde ümitlerim hepsi sanki bir rüya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115198065704154179?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115198065704154179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115198065704154179&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115198065704154179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115198065704154179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/07/yazik-oldu-yarinlara.html' title='YAZIK OLDU YARINLARA ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115168595882300956</id><published>2006-06-30T19:43:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T19:45:59.253+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never said I'd lie and wait forever&lt;br /&gt;If I died, we'd be together&lt;br /&gt;I can't always just forget her&lt;br /&gt;But she could try&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the world&lt;br /&gt;Or the last thing I see&lt;br /&gt;You are&lt;br /&gt;Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;Could I? Should I?&lt;br /&gt;And all the things that you never ever told me&lt;br /&gt;And all the smiles that are ever ever...Ever...&lt;br /&gt;Get the feeling that you're never&lt;br /&gt;All alone and I remember now&lt;br /&gt;At the top of my lungs in my arms she dies&lt;br /&gt;She dies&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the world&lt;br /&gt;Or the last thing I see&lt;br /&gt;You are Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;Could I? should I?&lt;br /&gt;And all the things that you never ever told me&lt;br /&gt;And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me&lt;br /&gt;Never coming home Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;Could I? Should I?&lt;br /&gt;And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me&lt;br /&gt;For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch meIf I fallIf I fall (down)&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the world&lt;br /&gt;Or the last thing I see&lt;br /&gt;You areNever coming home&lt;br /&gt;Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;And all the things that you never ever told me&lt;br /&gt;And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt meNever coming home&lt;br /&gt;Never coming home&lt;br /&gt;Could I? Should I?&lt;br /&gt;And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me&lt;br /&gt;For all the ghosts that are never gonna...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115168595882300956?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115168595882300956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115168595882300956&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115168595882300956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115168595882300956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-never-said-id-lie-and-wait-forever.html' title=''/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115112928642246424</id><published>2006-06-24T09:07:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T08:43:37.006+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Strangers In The Night By Frank Sinatra</title><content type='html'>Strangers in the night exchanging glances&lt;br /&gt;Wondring in the night&lt;br /&gt;What were the chances wed be sharing love&lt;br /&gt;Before the night was through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something in your eyes was so inviting,&lt;br /&gt;Something in you smile was so exciting,&lt;br /&gt;Something in my heart,&lt;br /&gt;Told me I must have you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangers in the night, two lonely people&lt;br /&gt;We were strangers in the night&lt;br /&gt;Up to the moment&lt;br /&gt;When we said our first hello.&lt;br /&gt;Little did we know&lt;br /&gt;Love was just a glance away,&lt;br /&gt;A warm embracing dance away and -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since that night weve been together.&lt;br /&gt;Lovers at first sight, in love forever.&lt;br /&gt;It turned out so right,&lt;br /&gt;For strangers in the night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115112928642246424?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115112928642246424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115112928642246424&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115112928642246424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115112928642246424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/strangers-in-night-by-frank-sinatra.html' title='Strangers In The Night By Frank Sinatra'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115112918694187819</id><published>2006-06-24T09:06:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T09:06:27.243+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Asi Ve Mavi</title><content type='html'>bugün kederliyim, beterim bugün &lt;br /&gt;Sesime ses değse çığlık oluyor &lt;br /&gt;Üşüyor toprak, taşlar üşüyor &lt;br /&gt;Vuslatı yakın eden yollar üşüyor &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yumma gözlerini uyuma bugün &lt;br /&gt;Bütün gölgeler akşam oluyor &lt;br /&gt;Üşüyor yaprak dallar üşüyor &lt;br /&gt;Savrulup yırtılan rüzgar üşüyor &lt;br /&gt;İçimde kış gibi bir mevsim üşüyor &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oysa ben senden neler neler isterdim &lt;br /&gt;Senli sevdalarda doğmak isterdim &lt;br /&gt;Sabahlar isterdim asi ve mavi &lt;br /&gt;Büyüsün isterdim ışığın rengi.... &lt;br /&gt;Ama gel gör ki kötüyüm bugün, &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Ahmet Can Akyol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115112918694187819?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115112918694187819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115112918694187819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115112918694187819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115112918694187819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/asi-ve-mavi.html' title='Asi Ve Mavi'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115103842192540311</id><published>2006-06-23T07:53:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T07:53:42.230+03:00</updated><title type='text'>SEVMEKTEN NE ZAMAN VAZGECTIM?</title><content type='html'>Kotu gunumde yanimda olmadigin zaman vazgectim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canin sikildiginda benimle paylasmadigini, kirilacak &lt;br /&gt;veya tedirgin olacak &lt;br /&gt;olsam bile dusuncelerini acikca soylemedigini &lt;br /&gt;anladigim zaman vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bana yalan soyledigini anladigim zaman vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gozlerime baktiginda kalbinle bakmadigini ve bana hala &lt;br /&gt;soylemedigin seyler &lt;br /&gt;oldugunu hissettigimde vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her sabah benimle uyanmak istemedigini, gelecegimizin &lt;br /&gt;hicbir yere &lt;br /&gt;gitmedigini anladigim zaman vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dusuncelerime ve degerlerime deger vermedigin icin &lt;br /&gt;vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agrilarimi dindirecek sicak sevgiyi bana vermediginde &lt;br /&gt;vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadece kendi mutlulugunu ve gelecegini dusunerek beni &lt;br /&gt;hice saydigin icin vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tablolarimda artik kendimi mutlu cizemedigim ve tek &lt;br /&gt;neden sen oldugun icin vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BENCIL OLDUGUN ICIN VAZGECTIM!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bunlardan sadece bir tanesi senden vazgecmem icin &lt;br /&gt;yeterli degildi, cunku sevgim yuceydi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ama hepsini dusundugumde senin benden coktan &lt;br /&gt;vazgectigini anladim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bu yüzden ben de senden vazgectim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frida Kahlo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir erkek vazgecmek istiyorsa tek bir neden yeterlidir &lt;br /&gt;ama biz kadinlar sevgimiz icin mucadele ederiz, cunku &lt;br /&gt;biz kadinlar elimizdekiyle yetinmesini ve mutlu &lt;br /&gt;olmasini biliriz. Eger sizin icin mucadele edecek, &lt;br /&gt;sizi bir &lt;br /&gt;kadinin hak ettigi degerle suleyecek, sizi hayatina &lt;br /&gt;dahil edebilecek ve gozlerinizin icine bakip SENI &lt;br /&gt;SEVIYORUM diyebilecek bir erkeginiz varsa dunyanin en &lt;br /&gt;sansli kadinisinizdir demektir. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frida Kahlo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115103842192540311?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115103842192540311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115103842192540311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115103842192540311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115103842192540311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/sevmekten-ne-zaman-vazgectim.html' title='SEVMEKTEN NE ZAMAN VAZGECTIM?'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115103831847632664</id><published>2006-06-23T07:51:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T07:51:58.920+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Güneşin Değdiği Yerden ...</title><content type='html'>Düşlerde yaşadık aşkı çılgın kanatlar taktık&lt;br /&gt;Uçmak onurlu bir heyecanlı grurlandık&lt;br /&gt;Aşkı bilgelikte aradık rolleri sevdalı bir oyundan&lt;br /&gt;Mavilik olduk uç verdik dudaklardan&lt;br /&gt;Güneş çiçekleri döküldü geceye sevdaya aktık&lt;br /&gt;Dağlar aştık diyar diyar canım bahar kokulu&lt;br /&gt;Cennet eyledik geçtiğimiz her yolu&lt;br /&gt;Bulutlarla yarıştık bilinmeyen alemlerde&lt;br /&gt;Duygularla örüldük çiçekleri dantel bahçelerde&lt;br /&gt;Uçtuk gök kubbede deli divane olduk&lt;br /&gt;Belki değil mutlak aradık düşlerdeki aşkı&lt;br /&gt;Oyunlarını verdi çocuklar bekleyişlere&lt;br /&gt;Sevinçlere batırdık çöküşünü akşamın&lt;br /&gt;Aşık olduk kalplerde doğduk&lt;br /&gt;Uyandık güneşin doğdu yerde&lt;br /&gt;Doğada uyandı rengarenk olduk&lt;br /&gt;Kuşlar şapkalarını örttü yalnızlıkları&lt;br /&gt;Mutlu olmayı öğrendik gülmeleri ağlatmadan&lt;br /&gt;Bayram oldu hayat acıları dağıttık&lt;br /&gt;Düşlerde yaşadık yeniden var olmayı&lt;br /&gt;Bebekler ağladı gül dikenini geri çekti&lt;br /&gt;Kanat çırptık öptük onu güneşin değdiği yerden&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115103831847632664?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115103831847632664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115103831847632664&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115103831847632664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115103831847632664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/gnein-dedii-yerden.html' title='Güneşin Değdiği Yerden ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115082533745871706</id><published>2006-06-20T20:41:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T20:42:17.810+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Kadınım ....</title><content type='html'>Eşyalar toplanmış seninle birlikte&lt;br /&gt;Anılar saçılmış odaya her yere&lt;br /&gt;Sevdiğim o koku yok artık bu evde&lt;br /&gt;Sen&lt;br /&gt;Kıyıda köşede gülüşün kaybolmuş&lt;br /&gt;Ne olur terketme yalnızlık çok acı&lt;br /&gt;Bu renksiz dünyayı sevmiştik birlikte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sen kadınım&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hatırla o günü karşıki sokakta&lt;br /&gt;Seni öptüğümü ilk defa hayatta&lt;br /&gt;Kollarımda benim ilkbahar sabahım&lt;br /&gt;Sen&lt;br /&gt;Sönmüş bak ışıklar ev nasıl karanlık&lt;br /&gt;O ılık aydınlık yuvamız soğumuş&lt;br /&gt;Geceler bitmiyor ağlıyorum artık&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sen kadınım&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eşyalar toplanmış seninle birlikte&lt;br /&gt;Anılar saçılmış odaya her yere&lt;br /&gt;Sevdiğim o koku yok artık bu evde&lt;br /&gt;Sen&lt;br /&gt;Masamız köşede öylece duruyor&lt;br /&gt;Bardaklar toplanmış herbiri bir yerde&lt;br /&gt;Sanki hepsi hasret senin nefesinde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sen kadınım&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bana bıraktığın bütün bu hayatın&lt;br /&gt;Yaşanan aşkların değeri yok artık&lt;br /&gt;Ben sensiz olamam artık anlıyorum&lt;br /&gt;Sen&lt;br /&gt;Şimdi çok yalnızım&lt;br /&gt;Ne olur kal benimle o kapıyı kapat&lt;br /&gt;Elini ver bana&lt;br /&gt;Dışarıda yalnız, yalnız üşüyorsun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sen kadınım&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avec des mots faciles&lt;br /&gt;Et ton air difficile&lt;br /&gt;Avec tes mots d'amour&lt;br /&gt;Qu'on ne comprend pas toujours&lt;br /&gt;T'as l'air d'une chanson&lt;br /&gt;Qu'on chante à la maison&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'a des jours où tu sais&lt;br /&gt;Tu n'es pas un succès&lt;br /&gt;Y'a des jours où ton père&lt;br /&gt;N'est sûrement pas Prévert&lt;br /&gt;Mais t'as l'air d'une chanson&lt;br /&gt;Qu'on chante entre garçons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma femme, la la la la la la...&lt;br /&gt;Ma femme, la la la la la la...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ça fait belle lurette&lt;br /&gt;Que je t'ai dans la tête&lt;br /&gt;T'es pas la Madelon&lt;br /&gt;Mais t'as l'air d'une chanson&lt;br /&gt;Qu'a fait bien d'autres guerres&lt;br /&gt;Dont j'étais l'adversaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et puis malgré les crises&lt;br /&gt;Malgré mes maints exodes&lt;br /&gt;Comme le temps des cerises&lt;br /&gt;T'es revenue à la mode&lt;br /&gt;T'as l'air d'une chanson&lt;br /&gt;Fidèle à son violon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma femme, la la la la la...&lt;br /&gt;Ma femme, la la la la la...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu es faite de quoi&lt;br /&gt;Quatre coups de crayon&lt;br /&gt;Deux trois notes de joie&lt;br /&gt;Et beaucoup de brouillons&lt;br /&gt;Et tu racontes quoi&lt;br /&gt;Une histoire qui me plaît&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si je ne suis pas toujours&lt;br /&gt;Là dans tous les couplets&lt;br /&gt;Je reviens au refrain&lt;br /&gt;Et j'appelle ça l'amour&lt;br /&gt;Tu es faite de quoi&lt;br /&gt;Tu es faite de moi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma femme, la la la la la...&lt;br /&gt;Ma femme, la la la la la...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'a des jours où tu sais&lt;br /&gt;Tu n'es pas un succès&lt;br /&gt;Y'a des jours où ton père&lt;br /&gt;N'est sûrement pas Prévert&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu es la chanson&lt;br /&gt;Qui ne doit pas finir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je te joue longuement&lt;br /&gt;Je me trompe souvent&lt;br /&gt;Car depuis tant de temps&lt;br /&gt;Que je t'apprends par coeur&lt;br /&gt;J'ai encore peur&lt;br /&gt;De ne pas te retenir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma femme, la la la la la...&lt;br /&gt;Ma femme, la la la la la...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115082533745871706?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115082533745871706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115082533745871706&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115082533745871706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115082533745871706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/kadnm.html' title='Kadınım ....'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115082392315948646</id><published>2006-06-20T20:16:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T22:55:54.856+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Anytime You Need A Friend ...</title><content type='html'>If you're lonely &lt;br /&gt;And need a friend &lt;br /&gt;And troubles seem like &lt;br /&gt;They never end &lt;br /&gt;Just remember to keep the faith &lt;br /&gt;And love will be there to light the way &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anytime you need a friend &lt;br /&gt;I will be here &lt;br /&gt;You'll never be alone again &lt;br /&gt;So don't you fear &lt;br /&gt;Even if you're miles away &lt;br /&gt;I'm by your side &lt;br /&gt;So don't you ever be lonely &lt;br /&gt;Love will make it alright &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the shadows are closing in &lt;br /&gt;And your spirit diminishing &lt;br /&gt;Just remember you're not alone &lt;br /&gt;And love will be there &lt;br /&gt;To guide you home &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anytime you need a friend &lt;br /&gt;I will be here &lt;br /&gt;You'll never be alone again &lt;br /&gt;So don't you fear &lt;br /&gt;Even if you're miles away &lt;br /&gt;I'm by your side &lt;br /&gt;So don't you ever be lonely &lt;br /&gt;Love will make it alright &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you just believe in me &lt;br /&gt;I will love you endlessly &lt;br /&gt;Take my hand &lt;br /&gt;Take me into your heart &lt;br /&gt;I'll be there forever baby &lt;br /&gt;I won't let go &lt;br /&gt;I'll never let go &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anytime you need a friend &lt;br /&gt;I will be here &lt;br /&gt;You'll never be alone again &lt;br /&gt;So don't you fear &lt;br /&gt;Even if you're miles away &lt;br /&gt;I'm by your side &lt;br /&gt;So don't you ever be lonely &lt;br /&gt;It's alright &lt;br /&gt;It's alright&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115082392315948646?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115082392315948646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115082392315948646&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115082392315948646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115082392315948646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/anytime-you-need-friend.html' title='Anytime You Need A Friend ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115073422451051345</id><published>2006-06-19T19:23:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T19:23:45.710+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sırasıdır</title><content type='html'>İstemiyorsun günahları&lt;br /&gt;Rüzgarlara savurmak /&lt;br /&gt;Ve düşlerini fırlatıp&lt;br /&gt;Koynumda uyumak...&lt;br /&gt;Erkeğinim diyorsun&lt;br /&gt;Rençberim&lt;br /&gt;Buğday tanem&lt;br /&gt;Hoyrat kadifem&lt;br /&gt;Gel /&lt;br /&gt;Gel artık yeniden&lt;br /&gt;Sırasıdır...&lt;br /&gt;Sen yaptın atom bombalarını&lt;br /&gt;Sen sürdün kuşku tarlalarını&lt;br /&gt;Sen yarattın savaşı / Korkuyu&lt;br /&gt;Telaşı ve kini&lt;br /&gt;Gel /&lt;br /&gt;Gel artık sırasıdır / Diyorsun&lt;br /&gt;Yeniden&lt;br /&gt;Yeniden doğurayım seni... &lt;br /&gt;Şair : Fikret Kızılok&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115073422451051345?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115073422451051345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115073422451051345&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115073422451051345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115073422451051345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/srasdr.html' title='Sırasıdır'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115073235458189578</id><published>2006-06-19T18:52:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T18:52:34.936+03:00</updated><title type='text'>ARTIK SEVGİLİM DEĞİLSİN ....</title><content type='html'>Geçen gece bir erkeği öptüm sırf hayatından çıkmak için&lt;br /&gt;Eskiden aşığım sandığım eskileri bir bir aradım&lt;br /&gt;Üzgün kadın portresi çizmek hiç hoşuma gitmez, sıraladım&lt;br /&gt;Bir kaç ay hayatı paylaştık, dedim konuşalım, konuşalım&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artık sevgilim değilsin&lt;br /&gt;Artık sevgilim değilsin&lt;br /&gt;Dostluğumuz da burda bitmesin&lt;br /&gt;Artık sevgilim değilsin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hayatına bir kadın girerse zor olurdu&lt;br /&gt;Buna rağmen iyi gibi görünmek çok sıkıcı&lt;br /&gt;Hayatını benden saklamana şahit olmak istemem&lt;br /&gt;Bir anda kopar gidersin derken&lt;br /&gt;Çapkın olan sensin derdin, sensin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artık sevgilim değilsin&lt;br /&gt;Artık sevgilim değilsin&lt;br /&gt;Dostluğumuz da burda bitmesin&lt;br /&gt;Artık sevgilim değilsin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115073235458189578?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115073235458189578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115073235458189578&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115073235458189578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115073235458189578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/artik-sevgilim-deilsin.html' title='ARTIK SEVGİLİM DEĞİLSİN ....'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115073184144656698</id><published>2006-06-19T18:42:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T18:44:01.786+03:00</updated><title type='text'>DURACAKSIN ....</title><content type='html'>Duracaksın &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Acı,&lt;br /&gt;ağulu dikenler gibi ruhuna dolandığında,&lt;br /&gt;öfke,&lt;br /&gt;kızıl bir küheylan gibi koşturduğunda,&lt;br /&gt;keder,&lt;br /&gt;yaşlı bir ağaç gibi üstüne yıkıldığında,&lt;br /&gt;duracaksın,&lt;br /&gt;durup, gümüş bir su gibi akan sabahın tazeliğine&lt;br /&gt;bakacaksın,&lt;br /&gt;sana iki yüz yıl önceden haberler taşıyan&lt;br /&gt;alaycı kargaların sesini&lt;br /&gt;dinleyeceksin,&lt;br /&gt;çiçeklerini koklayıp derin bir soluk&lt;br /&gt;alacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ölüm seni kuşattığında, tam o sırada, hayatı&lt;br /&gt;düşüneceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Acıyı, öfkeyi, kederi ulu bir gölgeliğe yatıracaksın&lt;br /&gt;bir zaman, ?dinlenin biraz? diyeceksin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir inci avcısı gibi, ta derinlere dalıp tek tek bütün&lt;br /&gt;istiridyeleri açarak,&lt;br /&gt;bir sevinç arayacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;Hayaller kuracaksın.&lt;br /&gt;Hatıralarını bir daha gözden geçireceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Sevdiklerini düşüneceksin ve seni sevenleri.&lt;br /&gt;Özlediklerini düşüneceksin ve seni özleyenleri.&lt;br /&gt;Teninde iz bırakanları ve senin izini taşıyan&lt;br /&gt;tenleri.&lt;br /&gt;Seni şakalarıyla güldürenleri ve senin şakalarına&lt;br /&gt;gülenleri.&lt;br /&gt;Sevinçlerini, hayallerini, hatıralarını,&lt;br /&gt;sevdalarını, sevişmelerini,&lt;br /&gt;özlemlerini, şakalarını bir bir yerleştireceksin içine,&lt;br /&gt;hayat denilen mucizenin sana verdiği armağanları&lt;br /&gt;sıkıca kucaklayacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ölüm her yandan üstüne saldırıp seni kuşattığında,&lt;br /&gt;tam da o zaman, hayatı düşüneceksin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Güzel bir haber gelecek belki yarın sabah.&lt;br /&gt;Belki bir mektup alacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;Sana gülümsemesini çok istediğin gülümseyecek belki sana.&lt;br /&gt;Serüvenci gemiciler gibi meçhul denizlerde&lt;br /&gt;kaybolduğunda,&lt;br /&gt;tam da o zaman, karanın bir gün görüneceğini düşüneceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Gözcünün ?kara göründü? diye bağırdığını hayal&lt;br /&gt;edeceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Kara, hiç görünmese bile,&lt;br /&gt;hiç olmazsa neyi aradığını ve neyi kaybettiğini&lt;br /&gt;bileceksin,&lt;br /&gt;çektiğin onca fırtınanın, varmayı umduğun o umutlu&lt;br /&gt;hedefle mana kazandığını anlayacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her şeyini kaybetsen de hayallerini&lt;br /&gt;kaybetmeyeceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Neyi aradığını hiç unutmayacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;Sevinçleri ne kadar hatırlarsan, acının derinliğini&lt;br /&gt;o kadar kavrayacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;Yaşadığın ve yaşayabileceğin güzel şeyleri ne kadar&lt;br /&gt;çok düşünürsen&lt;br /&gt;öfken o kadar keskinleşecek.&lt;br /&gt;Karanlık inerken ışığa daha dikkatli bakacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;Geleceğinle arana, dibinde canavarların dolaştığı&lt;br /&gt;bir uçurum koyduklarında,&lt;br /&gt;nasıl biteceğini bilmediğin atlayışını yapmadan önce,&lt;br /&gt;geçmişine, sevinçlerine, hayallerine yaslanıp güç alacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sevdiğin bir türküyü mırıldanmaktan hiç vazgeçmeyeceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Bir çiçek iliştireceksin yakana.&lt;br /&gt;Ölüm seni kuşattığında, tam da o zaman, hayatı düşüneceksin.&lt;br /&gt;En azgın, en ihtiraslı sevişmelerini...&lt;br /&gt;En çılgın hayallerini...&lt;br /&gt;En çağıltılı kahkahalarını...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acı,&lt;br /&gt;ağulu dikenler gibi ruhuna dolandığında,&lt;br /&gt;öfke,&lt;br /&gt;kızıl bir küheylan gibi koşturduğunda,&lt;br /&gt;keder,&lt;br /&gt;yaşlı bir ağaç gibi üstüne yıkıldığında,&lt;br /&gt;duracaksın,&lt;br /&gt;durup gümüş bir su gibi akan sabahın tazeliğine&lt;br /&gt;bakacaksın,&lt;br /&gt;sana iki yüz yıl önceden haberler taşıyan alaycı&lt;br /&gt;kargaların sesini dinleyeceksin,&lt;br /&gt;çiçeklerini koklayıp derin bir soluk alacaksın.&lt;br /&gt;Ölüm seni kuşattığında, tam o sırada, hayatı&lt;br /&gt;düşüneceksin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ölüm seni kuşattığında, tam o sırada, hayatı&lt;br /&gt;düşüneceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Acıyı, öfkeyi, kederi ulu bir gölgeliğe yatıracaksın&lt;br /&gt;bir zaman,&lt;br /&gt;?dinlenin biraz? diyeceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Onları, şefkatle dinlendireceksin.&lt;br /&gt;Çünkü onlara yine ihtiyacın olacak. &lt;br /&gt;Şair : Ahmet Altan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115073184144656698?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115073184144656698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115073184144656698&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115073184144656698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115073184144656698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/duracaksin.html' title='DURACAKSIN ....'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115065853927203260</id><published>2006-06-18T22:21:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T22:22:19.840+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sezen Aksu'dan El Gibi...</title><content type='html'>Ne bir ses ne de haber&lt;br /&gt;Gelmiyor artık senden&lt;br /&gt;Öylece kalakaldım da deli hasretinle ben&lt;br /&gt;Bir yabancı selamı ile hüzünlere daldım&lt;br /&gt;Kendi ellerimle ben beni kederlere saldım&lt;br /&gt;Sonunda bir oyuncak kara sevda aldım senden&lt;br /&gt;Yani değişmedim hala öyle biraz çocuk kaldım&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yok öyle el gibi durma gül biraz&lt;br /&gt;Sana gülmeler yaraşır&lt;br /&gt;Yok öyle güz gibi soğuk olma&lt;br /&gt;Güz ayrılık taşır&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115065853927203260?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115065853927203260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115065853927203260&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115065853927203260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115065853927203260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/sezen-aksudan-el-gibi.html' title='Sezen Aksu&apos;dan El Gibi...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115062641001033666</id><published>2006-06-18T13:23:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T13:26:50.753+03:00</updated><title type='text'>INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF</title><content type='html'>The Child is father of the Man;&lt;br /&gt;                                                             And I could wish my days to be&lt;br /&gt;                                                             Bound each to each by natural piety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                               Des Mannes Vater ist das Kind,&lt;br /&gt;                                                              und wenn mir noch ein Wunsch verbleibt,&lt;br /&gt;                                                              den Tagen sei, die mir noch sind,&lt;br /&gt;                                                              ein einend Band des Kindes Frömmigkeit! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,&lt;br /&gt;The earth, and every common sight,&lt;br /&gt;To me did seem&lt;br /&gt;Apparelled in celestial light,&lt;br /&gt;The glory and the freshness of a dream.&lt;br /&gt;It is not now as it hath been of yore; –&lt;br /&gt;Turn wheresoe’er I may,&lt;br /&gt;By night or day,&lt;br /&gt;The things which I have seen I now can see no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;II&lt;br /&gt;The Rainbow comes and goes,&lt;br /&gt;And lovely is the Rose,&lt;br /&gt;The Moon doth with delight&lt;br /&gt;Look round her when the heavens are bare, &lt;br /&gt;Waters on a starry night&lt;br /&gt;Are beautiful and fair;&lt;br /&gt;The sunshine is a glorious birth;&lt;br /&gt;But yet I know, where’er I go,&lt;br /&gt;That there hath past away a glory from the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;III&lt;br /&gt;Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,&lt;br /&gt;And while the young lambs bound&lt;br /&gt;As to the tabor’s sound,&lt;br /&gt;To me alone there came a thought of grief:&lt;br /&gt;A timely utterance gave that thought relief,&lt;br /&gt;And I again am strong:&lt;br /&gt;The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;&lt;br /&gt;No more shall grief of mine the season wrong;&lt;br /&gt;I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng,&lt;br /&gt;The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep,&lt;br /&gt;And all the earth is gay;&lt;br /&gt;Land and sea&lt;br /&gt;Give themselves up to jollity,&lt;br /&gt;And with the heart of May&lt;br /&gt;Doth every Beast keep holiday; –&lt;br /&gt;Thou child of joy,&lt;br /&gt;Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; IV&lt;br /&gt;Ye blesséd Creatures, I have heard the call&lt;br /&gt;Ye to each other make; I see&lt;br /&gt;The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is at your festival, &lt;br /&gt;My head hath its coronal, &lt;br /&gt;The fulness of your bliss, I feel – I feel it all.&lt;br /&gt;Oh evil day! if I were sullen&lt;br /&gt;While Earth herself is adorning,&lt;br /&gt;This sweet May-morning,&lt;br /&gt;And the Children are culling&lt;br /&gt;On every side,&lt;br /&gt;In a thousand valleys far and wide,&lt;br /&gt;Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,&lt;br /&gt;And the Babe leaps up on his Mother’s arm: –&lt;br /&gt;I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!&lt;br /&gt;– But there’s a Tree, of many, one,&lt;br /&gt;A single Field which I have looked upon,&lt;br /&gt;Both of them speak of something that is gone:&lt;br /&gt;The Pansy at my feet&lt;br /&gt;Doth the same tale repeat:&lt;br /&gt;Wither is fled the visionary gleam?&lt;br /&gt;Where is it now, the glory and the dream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V&lt;br /&gt;Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:&lt;br /&gt;The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,&lt;br /&gt;Hath had elsewhere its setting,&lt;br /&gt;And cometh from afar:&lt;br /&gt;Not in entire forgetfulness,&lt;br /&gt;And not in utter nakedness,&lt;br /&gt;But trailing clouds of glory do we come&lt;br /&gt;From God, who is our home:&lt;br /&gt;Heaven lies about us in our infancy!&lt;br /&gt;Shades of the prison-house begin to close&lt;br /&gt;Upon the growing Boy,&lt;br /&gt;But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,&lt;br /&gt;He sees it in his joy;&lt;br /&gt;The Youth, who daily farther from the east&lt;br /&gt;Must travel, still is Nature’s Priest,&lt;br /&gt;And by the vision splendid&lt;br /&gt;Is on his way attended;&lt;br /&gt;At lenght the Man perceives it die away,&lt;br /&gt;And fade into the light of common day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VI&lt;br /&gt;Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own;&lt;br /&gt;Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,&lt;br /&gt;And, even with something of a Mother’s mind,&lt;br /&gt;And no unworthy aim,&lt;br /&gt;The homely Nurse doth all she can&lt;br /&gt;To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man,&lt;br /&gt;Forget the glories he hath known,&lt;br /&gt;And that imperial palace whence he came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VII&lt;br /&gt;Behold the Child among his new-born blisses,&lt;br /&gt;A six years’ Darling of a pigmy size!&lt;br /&gt;See, where ’mid work of his own hand he lies,&lt;br /&gt;Fretted by the sallies of his mother’s kisses,&lt;br /&gt;With light upon him from his father’s eyes!&lt;br /&gt;See, at his feet, some little plan or chart,&lt;br /&gt;Some fragment from his dream of human life,&lt;br /&gt;Shaped by himself with newly-learned art;&lt;br /&gt;A wedding or a festival,&lt;br /&gt;A mourning or a funeral;&lt;br /&gt;And this hath now his heart,&lt;br /&gt;And unto this he frames his song:&lt;br /&gt;Then will he fit his tongue&lt;br /&gt;To dialogues of business, love, or strife:&lt;br /&gt;But it will not be long&lt;br /&gt;Ere this be thrown aside,&lt;br /&gt;And with new joy and pride&lt;br /&gt;The little Actor cons another part;&lt;br /&gt;Filling from time to time his ‘humorous stage’&lt;br /&gt;With all the Persons, down to palsied Age,&lt;br /&gt;That life brings with her in her equipage;&lt;br /&gt;As if his whole vocation&lt;br /&gt;Where endless imitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VIII&lt;br /&gt;Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie&lt;br /&gt;Thy Soul’s immensity;&lt;br /&gt;Thou best Philosopher who yet dost keep&lt;br /&gt;Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind,&lt;br /&gt;That, deaf and silent, read’st the eternal deep,&lt;br /&gt;Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, –&lt;br /&gt;Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!&lt;br /&gt;On whom those truths do rest,&lt;br /&gt;Which we are toiling all our lives to find,&lt;br /&gt;In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave;&lt;br /&gt;Thou, over whom thy Immortality&lt;br /&gt;Broods like the Day, a Master o’er a Slave,&lt;br /&gt;A presence which is not to be put by;&lt;br /&gt;To whom the grave&lt;br /&gt;Is but a lonely bed without the sense or sight&lt;br /&gt;Of day or the warm light,&lt;br /&gt;A place of thought where we in waiting lie;&lt;br /&gt;Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might&lt;br /&gt;Of heaven-born freedom on thy being’s height,&lt;br /&gt;Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke&lt;br /&gt;The years to bring the inevitable yoke,&lt;br /&gt;Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife?&lt;br /&gt;Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight,&lt;br /&gt;And custom lie upon thee with a weight,&lt;br /&gt;Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IX&lt;br /&gt;O joy! that in our embers&lt;br /&gt;Is something that doth live,&lt;br /&gt;That nature yet remembers&lt;br /&gt;What was so fugitive!&lt;br /&gt;The thought of our past years in me doth breed&lt;br /&gt;Perpetual benediction: not indeed&lt;br /&gt;For that which is most worthy to be blest;&lt;br /&gt;Delight and liberty, the simple creed&lt;br /&gt;Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,&lt;br /&gt;With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast: –&lt;br /&gt;Not for these I raise&lt;br /&gt;The song of thanks and praise;&lt;br /&gt;But for those obstinate questionings&lt;br /&gt;Of sense and outward things,&lt;br /&gt;Fallings from us, vanishings;&lt;br /&gt;Blank misgivings of a Creature&lt;br /&gt;Moving about in worlds not realized,&lt;br /&gt;High instincts before which our mortal Nature&lt;br /&gt;Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised:&lt;br /&gt;But for those first affections,&lt;br /&gt;Those shadowy recollections,&lt;br /&gt;Which, be they what they may,&lt;br /&gt;Are yet the fountain-light of all our seeing;&lt;br /&gt;Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make&lt;br /&gt;Our noisy years seem moments in the being&lt;br /&gt;Of eternal Silence: truths that wake,&lt;br /&gt;To perish never:&lt;br /&gt;Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour,&lt;br /&gt;Nor man nor Boy,&lt;br /&gt;Nor all that is at enmity with joy,&lt;br /&gt;Can utterly abolish or destroy!&lt;br /&gt;Hence in a season of calm weather&lt;br /&gt;Though inland far we be,&lt;br /&gt;Our souls have sight of that immortal sea&lt;br /&gt;Which brought us hither,&lt;br /&gt;Can in a moment travel thither,&lt;br /&gt;And see the Children sport upon the shore,&lt;br /&gt;And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X&lt;br /&gt;Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!&lt;br /&gt;And let the young Lambs bound&lt;br /&gt;As to the tabor’s sound!&lt;br /&gt;We in thought will join your throng,&lt;br /&gt;Ye that pipe and ye that play,&lt;br /&gt;Ye that through your hearts to-day&lt;br /&gt;Feel the gladness of the May!&lt;br /&gt;What though the radiance which was once so bright&lt;br /&gt;Be now for ever taken from my sight,&lt;br /&gt;Though nothing can bring back the hour&lt;br /&gt;Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;&lt;br /&gt;We will grieve not, rather find&lt;br /&gt;Strength in what remains behind;&lt;br /&gt;In that primal sympathy&lt;br /&gt;Which having been must ever be;&lt;br /&gt;In the soothing thoughts that spring&lt;br /&gt;Out of human suffering;&lt;br /&gt;In the faith that looks through death,&lt;br /&gt;In years that bring the philosophic mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XI&lt;br /&gt;And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills and Groves,&lt;br /&gt;Forebode not any severing of our loves!&lt;br /&gt;Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;&lt;br /&gt;I only have relinquished one delight&lt;br /&gt;To live beneath your more habitual sway.&lt;br /&gt;I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,&lt;br /&gt;Even more than when I tripped lightly as they;&lt;br /&gt;The innocent brightness of a new-born Day&lt;br /&gt;Is lovely yet;&lt;br /&gt;The Clouds that gather round the setting sun&lt;br /&gt;Do take a sober colouring from an eye&lt;br /&gt;That hath kept watch o’er man’s mortality;&lt;br /&gt;Another race hath been, and other palms are won.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the human heart by which we live,&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,&lt;br /&gt;To me the meanest flower that blows can give&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts that often lie too deep for tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://parentswish.com/index.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115062641001033666?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115062641001033666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115062641001033666&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115062641001033666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115062641001033666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/intimations-of-immortality-from.html' title='INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115062313184965361</id><published>2006-06-18T12:31:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T12:32:11.936+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Father's Day .../Babalar Gününüz Kutlu Olsun...</title><content type='html'>Looking through my picture book&lt;br /&gt;I see once more my day of birth&lt;br /&gt;and cradled in my fathers arms&lt;br /&gt;I'm in the kindest hands on earth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories swim through my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;of sitting on my father's knee&lt;br /&gt;and I take his warm hand in mine&lt;br /&gt;and it touches my face so lovingly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on so many mornings past&lt;br /&gt;Those hands would wake me for the day&lt;br /&gt;and oh how cold those two hands seemed&lt;br /&gt;as they sent me on my way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now that I have gone away&lt;br /&gt;and those hands are beyond my grasp&lt;br /&gt;every day I try to think how&lt;br /&gt;those two hands I could reach and clasp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking through my picture book&lt;br /&gt;I found a photo, Yesterday&lt;br /&gt;of that Grandpa I hardly know&lt;br /&gt;before the time he passed away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and soon I noted that his hands&lt;br /&gt;were like the ones I've so long loved&lt;br /&gt;and I knew that I'd someday be&lt;br /&gt;In my grandpa's arms in heaven above.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115062313184965361?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115062313184965361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115062313184965361&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115062313184965361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115062313184965361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/happy-fathers-day-babalar-gnnz-kutlu.html' title='Happy Father&apos;s Day .../Babalar Gününüz Kutlu Olsun...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115062229012229815</id><published>2006-06-18T12:17:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T12:18:10.480+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bir Ayrılış Hikayesi</title><content type='html'>Erkek kadına dedi ki: &lt;br /&gt;- Seni seviyorum, &lt;br /&gt;ama nasıl? &lt;br /&gt;avuçlarımda camdan bir parça gibi kalbimi sıkıp &lt;br /&gt;parmaklarımı kanatarak &lt;br /&gt;kırasıya, &lt;br /&gt;çıldırasıya... &lt;br /&gt;Erkek kadına dedi ki: &lt;br /&gt;- Seni seviyorum, &lt;br /&gt;ama nasıl? &lt;br /&gt;kilometrelerce derin, kilometrelerce dümdüz, &lt;br /&gt;yüzde yüz, yüzde bin beşyüz &lt;br /&gt;yüzde hudutsuz kere yüz... &lt;br /&gt;Kadın erkeğe dedi ki: &lt;br /&gt;- Baktım &lt;br /&gt;dudağımla, yüreğimle, kafamla; &lt;br /&gt;severek, korkarak, eğilerek, &lt;br /&gt;dudağına, yüreğine, kafana. &lt;br /&gt;Şimdi ne söylüyorsam &lt;br /&gt;karanlıkta bir fısıltı gibi sen öğrettin bana... &lt;br /&gt;Ve artık &lt;br /&gt;biliyorum: &lt;br /&gt;Toprağın &lt;br /&gt;Yüzü güneşli bir ana gibi &lt;br /&gt;En son, en güzel çocuğunu emzirdiğini... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fakat neyleyim &lt;br /&gt;saçlarım dolanmış &lt;br /&gt;ölmekte olanın parmaklarına &lt;br /&gt;başımı kurtarmam kâbil &lt;br /&gt;değil! &lt;br /&gt;Sen &lt;br /&gt;yürümelisin, &lt;br /&gt;yeni doğan çocuğun &lt;br /&gt;gözlerine bakarak... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sen &lt;br /&gt;yürümelisin, &lt;br /&gt;beni bırakarak... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kadın sustu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SARILDILAR &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir kitap düştü yere... &lt;br /&gt;Kapandı bir pencere... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AYRILDILAR...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nazım Hikmet Ran&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115062229012229815?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115062229012229815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115062229012229815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115062229012229815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115062229012229815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/bir-ayrl-hikayesi.html' title='Bir Ayrılış Hikayesi'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115060780282433006</id><published>2006-06-18T08:10:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T08:20:41.126+03:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/peder.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/peder.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/peder.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;دلم برش تنگ شده&lt;br /&gt;احساس تنهايی ميکنم&lt;br /&gt;برايه اوّلين بار بهش نياز دارم&lt;br /&gt;کاش ميشد بهش بگم دوستت دارم&lt;br /&gt;شايد برايه آخرين بار و شايد هم برايه اوّلين بار&lt;br /&gt;ای کاش اینجا بود و ... &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;د&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ای کاش بود...&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;گ&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115060780282433006?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115060780282433006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115060780282433006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115060780282433006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115060780282433006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115056946089426233</id><published>2006-06-17T21:36:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T21:37:41.183+03:00</updated><title type='text'>I Really Love You</title><content type='html'>You've taken my heart, soul and mind&lt;br /&gt;you've got everything that I love&lt;br /&gt;Dark brown eyes, dark brown hair&lt;br /&gt;four years older than me&lt;br /&gt;but I don't care&lt;br /&gt;I really love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people say I'm just a kid&lt;br /&gt;12 years old, don't know what I did&lt;br /&gt;All I did was really love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love you&lt;br /&gt;And someday when I'm old enough &lt;br /&gt;I want to say "I do"&lt;br /&gt;I really love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I don't know everything&lt;br /&gt;from A to Z&lt;br /&gt;But I know that you'll never love me&lt;br /&gt;Even tho&lt;br /&gt;I really love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You go around with lots of other girls&lt;br /&gt;but are you realy serious&lt;br /&gt;I've heard they do things&lt;br /&gt;that I'd never do&lt;br /&gt;All I could do&lt;br /&gt;is really love you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115056946089426233?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115056946089426233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115056946089426233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115056946089426233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115056946089426233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-really-love-you.html' title='I Really Love You'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115056412350845148</id><published>2006-06-17T20:06:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T20:08:44.060+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Egyptian Mythology</title><content type='html'>Many books have been written on religion in ancient Egypt. This brief overview is meant only to explain some of the basic concepts and to introduce some of the gods. Religion in ancient Egypt was not unlike modern times. Today, not everyone believes in the same way, or of the same god. Egypt was no different. Individual kings worshipped their own gods, as did the workers, priests, merchants and peasants. Pre-dynastic Egypt had formulated the ideas and beliefs of a "greater being", which was expressed in pictures, but some scholars suggest that "writing" was invented in order to communicate spiritual thoughts to the masses. Now the pictures had ideas, and took on human traits. The gods lived, died, hunted, went into battle, gave birth, ate, drank, and had human emotions. The gods reigns overlapped, and, in some instances, merged. Their was no organized hierarchy structure of their reign. The dominance of the gods depended on the beliefs of the reigning king. Their area of dominance depended on where the king wanted his capital. Likewise, the myths changed with the location of the gods, as did their names. Names in ancient Egypt were very mystic and powerful. It was thought that if you inscribed your enemies' name on something, then broke it, that enemy would either be afflicted, or possibly die. If you knew a name you had power. In the same respect, using a name could be beneficial. Each god had five names, and each was associated with an element, such as air, with celestial bodies, or were a descriptive statement about the god, such as strong, virile or majestic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The creator of all things was either Re, Amun, Ptah, Khnum or Aten, depending on which version of the myth was currently in use. The heavens were represented by Hathor, Bat, and Horus. Osiris was an earth god as was Ptah. The annual flooding of the Nile was Hapi. Storms, evil and confusion were Seth. His counterpart was Ma'at, who represented balance, justice and truth. The moon was Thoth and Khonsu. Re, the sun god, took on many forms, and transcended most of the borders that contained the other gods. The actual shape of the sun, the disk (or, aten), was deified into another god, Aten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As stated earlier, certain gods were worshipped in different areas. Local cities or villages, known as nomes, often had unique gods that were known only to that region. On occasion, these gods attained country -wide recognition and became the myths and legends that were passed on from century to century. Below is a listing of the main gods and their primary place of worship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amaunet - A female counterpart to Amon and one of the primordial gods of the Hermopolitian Ogdoad (group of eight gods). She was also worshipped at Thebes along with Amon and Mut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amon - Usually associated with the wind, or things hidden, and was also of the Hermopolitian Ogdoad. At Thebes he became Amon-Re, king of the gods. He was part of the Theban Triad, along with Mut and Khonsu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antaios - He was originally a double god, "the two falcons", that was later joined to create one, probably that of Horus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anuket - Worshipped at Elephantine, she was associated with the gazelle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apis - Seen as the bull with a solar disk between its horns, Apis was associated with Osiris and Ptah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aton - Also known as Aten, he was worshipped at Tell 'Amarna. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atum - A primordial god that was represented in the form of a human and a serpent. He was the supreme god in the Heliopolitan Ennead (group of nine gods) and formed with Re to create Re-Atum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hathor - The goddess of love, dance and alcohol was depicted as a cow. At Thebes she was also the goddess of the dead. She was worshipped at Dendera as the consort of Horus and Edfu, and was associated with Isis at Byblos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horus - The earliest royal god was the shape of a falcon, with the sun and moon as his eyes. The sky-god was the ruler of the day. The many forms of Horus are; Re-Harakhti, Harsiesis, Haroeris, Harendotes, Khenti-irti, Khentekhtay (the crocodile-god), and Harmakhis, which is Horus on the horizons, in which the Sphinx of Giza is considered to be his aspect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isis - The mother of Horus and sister and consort of Osiris was worshipped at Philae. Associated with Astarte, Hathor, Nut and Sothis, she was later worshipped over the entire Roman Empire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Khnum - Resembling a human with a rams head, he was worshipped in Hypselis, Esna, Antinoe and Elephantine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Khonsu - the moon god was the son of Amon and Mut. The main temple at Karnak is dedicated to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Min - God of fertility coalesced with Amon and Horus. Min was mainly worshipped at Coptos and Akhmim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mut - Worshipped at Thebes, she was a consort of Amon and part of the Theban Triad (group of three gods). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nut - Mother of the sun, moon and heavenly bodies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Osiris - He is regarded as the dead king that watches over the nether world and is rejuvenated in his son Horus. As the symbol of eternal life he was worshipped at Abydos and Philae. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ptah - Worshipped in Memphis, he coalesced with Sokaris and Osiris. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Re - He was the sun god of Heliopolis. From the fifth Dynasty onwards he becomes a national god and is combined with the supreme deity Amon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serapis - He was mainly worshipped in Alexandria and was later worshipped by the Greeks as Zeus. He was never fully accepted by the Egyptians in the Ptolemaic period. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sekhmet - She was part of the Memphite Triad with Ptah and Nefertem. She was the mistress of war and sickness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seth - The son of Geb and Nut in the Heliopolitan Ennead was in the form of an animal that has no zoological equivalent. This powerful god was regarded as god of the desert, making him a god of foreign lands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shu - He was an ancient cosmic power and was regarded as the god of the air and the bearer of heaven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobek - He was a crocodile god and was worshipped at the Faiyum and Ombos. During the middle Kingdom he coalesced with Re, Sobek-Re, and was worshipped as primordial deity and creator-god. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoth - He was worshipped as a baboon in Hermopolis. He was the god of sacred writings and wisdom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kings of ancient Egypt were an integral part of religion. They formed a bridge over the chasm dividing the people and the gods. In pre-dynastic times the kings were considered to be gods. In later times, around the third dynasty, the kings became "transformed into" gods. This was a crucial part of the governing of the people. The heirs to the throne were not kept out of public display. At a young age they were known to many, and were known as children, not future gods. A king may have had many heirs and may not have known who would assume the throne until a much later time. In order for the people , (and the future king), to accept the transformation, certain procedures had to be worked out. This dilemma was beautifully solved by the ritual that merged the king with the god. Belief was that all future kings had two aspects of his being, his physical being and his "ka." The ka was his spiritual counterpart that was part of the king at birth and remained with him throughout his life. Before assuming the throne a ritual was performed that united the king's ka and his person. The king and his priests would enter a temple, perform the ritual, and emerge as a god. All of the people would wait outside to witness the miracle of the transformation when the king re-emerged from the temple. In this way was the new king accepted as a god and his word was accepted as law. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concerning religious matters, directly under the king were the priests. Their duty was to take care of the images of the gods. They also prepared the statues, or images, for the religious festivals. It was the priests role to read the scrolls before religious events. In later dynasties the priests were the voices of the oracles. Special compartments, called priest holes, were strategically placed inside the temple. The priests were able to speak from these holes unseen by the person asking questions or favors of the gods. Oracles were considered the pinnacle of the decision of the gods. The priests were in charge of the temple riches and granaries. They were on a rotation schedule and might work officially one week out of the month. Their laboratories were in the temples, where they prepared incense and healing potions. What we think of as wizards originated with the priests. Shrouded in mystery, they were seldom seen by the common people unless they were reading magical texts or performing religious rituals. Inside the temple sanctuaries they were seen only by the king.. During the 21st 'Dynasty tomb robbing was systematically done by the priests themselves. Throughout history tomb robbing had been a problem, but had generally been done by common thieves. The priests claimed that by removing the bodies, and stripping off all of the precious metals, that they were, in fact, saving the desecration of the bodies by the common thieves. Of course the priests re-wrapped the bodies and buried them in different tombs to help protect the corpses. Some of the stolen gold and silver went into the temple treasuries, but a large portion of it went to the purchase of wood and iron, resources that were not native to Egypt and were most costly. Thirdly, some of the riches went into the current kings' tomb, making the robberies sanctified by the throne. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ancient Egyptians were extremely devout in their beliefs. They were dedicated to their gods and worshipped daily in many different ways. Their way of life revolved around these beliefs. They had a strong sense of justice and endeavored to do that which was right. Just like our society today, the common people abhorred adultery, stealing, murder and lying. They were a highly sophisticated society with values and morals not unlike our own. Magic was commonplace for them as is demonstrated by the wearing of amulets to ward off evil. Magical texts were written in tombs to protect against would-be robbers. Many spells against snakebite have been discovered. Magical spells, rituals and concoctions were used to treat the sick or injured. If the magic did not work it was considered a will of the god, and not a failure of the magic. The peoples calm acceptance of the strange and unusual allowed them to reconcile themselves to either natural phenomena or to those things unseen. Every occurrence had spiritual meaning and had a unique god assigned to the act. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the 1st dynasty (2950 - 3110 B.C.E.) Menes, the king who is considered by many to be Ay or Narmer, united upper and lower Egypt. He created his capital at Memphis and dedicated a temple to the god Ptah. Existing beliefs at that time were revised to explain these events, and almost all other myths of gods came from this event. Over a period of time all of the surrounding local gods were brought into this scheme, creating a sort of order of the hierarchy of the gods. All of the gods were included in one story or another, so no one was offended. This composition of the gods was like laying bricks for a building and, in essence, created the foundation for history's longest lived civilization. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; AMEN&lt;br /&gt;OSIRIS&lt;br /&gt;HORUS&lt;br /&gt;NEPHTHYS&lt;br /&gt;ISIS&lt;br /&gt;SET&lt;br /&gt;ANUBIS&lt;br /&gt;ATEN&lt;br /&gt;SERAPIS &lt;br /&gt;NUT&lt;br /&gt;THE GODS OF HELIOPOLIS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE TRIAD OF THEBES &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MUT&lt;br /&gt;KHENSU&lt;br /&gt;HAPI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE TRIAD OF ABU &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KHNEMU&lt;br /&gt;SATET&lt;br /&gt;ANQET &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To understand the Myth of Creation, one must first understand that it is a complicated story. Four "cosmologies," or theories about creation are involved, each developing over different periods in ancient Egypt. There are some common elements to each theory. For example, each theory holds that in the beginning, only a primordial, stagnant ocean called Nu existed. In addition, the four theories agree that out of Nu, rose the primeval hill. Each cosmology believed it was their temple that stood on this hill. The first step-pyramids are no doubt symbolic of this mound. All cosmologies share the belief that creation was a slow process, not catastrophic. Finally, they also all agree that there was a "First Time," or a time period when the gods actually lived on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this foundation, the Heliopolitan cosmogony develops the myth further. The first event was the creation of Atum, the god of Heliopolis. There is dispute over whether he created himself, or was the son of Nu. Some texts say he first appeared over the hill, others say he was, himself, the hill. Eventually, Atum became associated with Ra, the sun-god. Ra-Atum at this point is said to be the coming of the light to disperse the darkness of Nu. Ra-Atum is symbolized by the Phoenix in this context. His next task was to create other gods. He did this by masturbation, not having a mate. This was not offensive to ancient Egyptians, but in fact intensified his power in their minds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ra-Atum gave birth to twins. Shu, his son and god of the air, was spit out, and his daughter, Tefnut, goddess of world order was vomited out by Ra-Atum. The Twins were raised by Nu and supervised by Ra-Atum's eye. The story of Ra-Atums eye will be told later. Shu and Tefnut gave birth to Geb, god of the earth, and his wife and sister, Nut, goddess of the sky. Geb and Nut, in turn, were the parents of Isis, Osiris, Nephthys, and Set. These four gods, especially Osiris play a major role in later myths. Horus, another god was the son of Isis and Osiris. These five younger gods and goddesses may have been incorporated by the priests of Heliopolis. Whatever the case, this "Ennead," or grouping of gods, were very much a part of tradition during this time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From here, the order of dominance or precedence becomes contradictory. Some text place Horus in a very high position, others give the right to Nut. Still others claim that Atum placed Geb over the Ennead, which included himself. The priests during this period believed themselves to represent Geb and Nut, not Atum. Eventually, it is Ra, the sun-god, who is considered supreme. However, Osiris later assumes this role. All of this will be discussed later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, in 3100 B.C., Upper and Lower Egypt were joined and the capital became Memphis. This began a new theory of creation. Ptah, the high god of Memphis was deemed creator. At some point Ptah was even declared to be Nu (thus placed above Atum, high god of Heliopolis). The Ennead of Heliopolis was said to be merely a manifestation of Ptah. This displacement of Heliopolitan cosmogony was necessary to establish and maintain the Memphite superiority. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet another cosmogony existed which was quite different from that of Heliopolis and Memphis. This was in a city in Upper Egypt called Hermopolis. It was said that this theory came before any other. Instead of an Ennead, Hermopolitans had a group of eight gods called an Ogdoad. This group consisted of Nun and Naunet, Huh and Hauhet, Kuk and Kauket, and Amon and Amaunet. According to this theory, these eight gods were responsible for creating the world. After this was done, the eight ruled the world during a time called the Golden Age. When they died, they went to the underworld, from where they still had power to make the Nile flow and the sun to rise. Nun and Naunet symbolize water, Huh and Hauhet represent "unendingness," Kuk and Kauket signify darkness, and Amon and Amaunet symbolize the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, in Thebes during the New Kingdom time from 1546-1085 B.C., a new cosmogony arose. At this time, all the other theories were widely accepted; therefore, it was essential that the Thebans incorporate the main features of these theories into their own. The chief god of Thebes was Amon, who was already associated with the air. This made it a simple task to also instill in Amon the power of the "supreme and invisible creator (Ames, 1965)." It was said that he created himself, having no father or mother, and was born in secret. Thebans claimed their city was the first city, and that all other cities were modeled after it. All of the cosmogonies claimed this. Thebans claimed that Thebes was the Eye of Ra, son of Amon. Going beyond what had been done in the past, Thebans claimed that entire cosmogonies were merely aspects of Amon; merely forms of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is important to mention at this point that each translation of ancient Egyptian text renders its own perspective on what is being said. There are many inconsistencies in each account. Therefor, it is a very complicated and difficult task to summarize the myth of creation, or any myth, for that matter. From source to source, the names of the gods differ; even spellings differ. This site attempts to give a brief outline or a basic knowledge of Egyptian mythology. With this in mind, we continue with a few myths related to the creation myth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The eye of Ra-Atum, mentioned above, is the mythological symbol for the sun. At one point, Shu and Tefnut, twin children of Ra-Atum, were separated from him. He sent his eye to find them. While the eye was searching, Ra-Atum replaced the eye with another. When the eye returned with Shu and Tefnut, Ra-Atum wept with joy, and the tears created humankind. However, the eye was enraged at having been replaced. Ra-Atum placed the eye on his forehead so that the eye could rule the world; thus becoming associated with the sun. The second eye is associated with the moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another mythological symbol associated with the Creation Myth is the Phoenix. The Phoenix was said to travel from Arabia to Heliopolis once every five hundred years. The cycles of time were said to be set by the Phoenix, also known as the Benu bird, and the temple of the Phoenix became the "centre of calendrical regulation (Clark, 1960)." During the Middle Kingdom, it became the soul of Osiris and it was also at this time that it became associated with the planet Venus, the morning star, which was said to be the sun’s guide. All of the above representations were minor associations, however. The Phoenix’s main role was as the one who created himself, thus symbolizing Ra-Atum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common to all cosmogonies of creation is the temple. Each theory places its temple on the hill rising up from Nu. Myths concerning the form, origin and significance are mostly Memphite in origin; myths about the daily temple rituals are primarily Heliopolitan in nature. One such temple, and possibly the earliest described in myth, was that of the Falcon, associated with the god Horus who was the hunters’ god, maybe a war god, and later, a sky god. Thus, the Falcon was a symbol of majesty and power, and the model for the pharaohs. According to myth, this temple’s erection was a natural event and signified the final event in the process of creation. It started out as a shelter for the Falcon’s perch and this portion remained the most sacred place in the temple. The detail in which the temple is described exemplifies the high level of development that was reached even before historic times. Many temples like this were constructed in predynastic Egypt, most likely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The temple of the sun-god was the second type of temple built. This began as one rectangular structure or sanctuary. Other chambers were added, and a wall surrounded the structure. Some research shows that there was another type of temple of the sun-god that consisted of one sanctuary only. This temple signifies the beginning of the history of the actual temple physically built in Egypt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myth has it that the above temples descended from one primeval temple that was built to shelter the successor of the creator. This temple is said to have stood on the hill rising up from Nu, as did every other temple described in the various cosmogonies. However, this was a living temple, the body of the god of the temple, who took his physical form using the temple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115056412350845148?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115056412350845148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115056412350845148&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115056412350845148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115056412350845148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/egyptian-mythology.html' title='Egyptian Mythology'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115055939090098976</id><published>2006-06-17T18:48:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T18:49:51.326+03:00</updated><title type='text'>:: EFES ::</title><content type='html'>&lt;object id="WMPlay" width=320 height=320 classid="CLSID:22D6F312-B0F6-11D0-94AB-0080C74C7E95" codebase="http://activex.microsoft.com/activex/controls/mplayer/en/nsmp2inf.cab#Version=5,1,52,701" standby="Microsoft Windows Media Player bileşenleri yükleniyor..." type="application/x-oleobject"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="FileName" value="http://www.kultur.gov.tr/genel/medya/film/sanalmuzeler/Efes_Muzesi.wmv"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="ShowControls" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="AutoStart" value="1"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="ShowDisplay" value="false"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="ShowStatusBar" value="1"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="ShowGotoBar" value="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="AutoSize" value="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="PlayCount" value="1"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="EnableContextMenu" value="false"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="ShowPositionControls" value="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="AllowScan" value="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;param name="CanSeek" value="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;embed type="application/x-mplayer2" pluginspage="http://www.microsoft.com/Windows/Downloads/Contents/Products/MediaPlayer/" filename="ping.wmv" src="wmv/reklam1.wmv" autostart=1 showcontrols=0 showdisplay=false showgotobar=0 enablecontextmenu=false showstatusbar=0 width=320 height=320 autosize="0" playcount="1" currentmarker="" showpositioncontrols="0" allowscan="0" canseek="0"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115055939090098976?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115055939090098976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115055939090098976&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115055939090098976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115055939090098976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/efes.html' title=':: EFES ::'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115046905142046036</id><published>2006-06-16T17:43:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T17:44:11.496+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Kendini Sevdirmelerine Kızgınım</title><content type='html'>Fena halde kızgınım &lt;br /&gt;Bakışına &lt;br /&gt;Duruşuna &lt;br /&gt;Hani hiç farkında değilmiş gibi &lt;br /&gt;Kendini sevdirmelerine kızgınım... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kanlı bıçaklıyım gülüşünle &lt;br /&gt;Ne zaman gözümün önünde canlansa hayalin &lt;br /&gt;Sigaramın dumanını üfleyip yüzünü dağıtırım... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sıcaklığını &lt;br /&gt;Sıcaklığını sevmiyorum bir de &lt;br /&gt;Bir dokunup bir kaybolması yüzünden sıtmalarım... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bak buraya yazdım bile &lt;br /&gt;Görülecek hesabım var gönül gözünle &lt;br /&gt;Öyle kendini beğenmiş günlerinden birinde &lt;br /&gt;Bir bakacak &lt;br /&gt;Bir görecek ki &lt;br /&gt;Sevdam kendini asmış! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Öylece asılı kalacak günlerce &lt;br /&gt;Duyarsız &lt;br /&gt;Uumarsız &lt;br /&gt;Tam gözünün önünde&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115046905142046036?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115046905142046036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115046905142046036&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115046905142046036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115046905142046036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/kendini-sevdirmelerine-kzgnm.html' title='Kendini Sevdirmelerine Kızgınım'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115046898984632353</id><published>2006-06-16T17:42:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T17:43:09.913+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Gittin...</title><content type='html'>Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;Ben arkandan sadece baktım. &lt;br /&gt;Oysa söyleyecek o kadar çok şeyim vardı ki...&lt;br /&gt;’’gidersen, iyiye dair ne varsa içimde yitireceğim hepsini. &lt;br /&gt;Gidersen, sönecek içimdeki ateş ve bir daha hiç kimse yakamayacak. &lt;br /&gt;Gidersen, karanlığa mahkum edeceksin günlerimi.&lt;br /&gt;O karanlıkta yolumu kaybedeceğim...’’ diyecektim sana. &lt;br /&gt;Konuşamadım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;gidişini görmemek için gözlerimi kapattım. &lt;br /&gt;Öğlesine acıdı ki içim, tutup koparsalardı kolumu, &lt;br /&gt;bacağımı bu kadar acı duymazdım. &lt;br /&gt;Acım yaş olup akmalıydı gözümden. &lt;br /&gt;Ağlayamadım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;gidişini önlemek için tutmalıydım ellerinden. &lt;br /&gt;Ellerim değilmiydi her dokunuşunda seni ürperten?! &lt;br /&gt;ürperirdin yine biliyorum. &lt;br /&gt;Bir kez dokunsam, bir kes tutsam ellerini, &lt;br /&gt;gitmek için biriktirdiğin bütün cesaretin kaybolurdu. &lt;br /&gt;Tutamadım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;bir yıkım gibiydi gidişin. &lt;br /&gt;Sen adım, adım uzaklaşırken benden çöküp kaldı bedenim olduğu yerde. &lt;br /&gt;Nice terk edişlere dayanan bu yürek bu kes yenilmişti. &lt;br /&gt;Bu kadar zayıf değildim ben, kalkmalıydım. &lt;br /&gt;Kalkamadım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;oysa ben geldiğin gün gideceğini biliyordum. &lt;br /&gt;Hazırdım gidişine. &lt;br /&gt;Kaçak zamanları yaşıyorduk. &lt;br /&gt;Zaman bitecek ve sen gidecektin. &lt;br /&gt;Bense gidişinin ertesi günü hayatıma kaldığım yerden devam edecektim. &lt;br /&gt;Edemedim... &lt;br /&gt;Başlayamadım... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;bir şey söyledin mi giderken?&lt;br /&gt;‘KAL’ dememi istedin mi? &lt;br /&gt;Son bir kez ‘ SENİ SEVİYORUM ’ dedin mi? &lt;br /&gt;‘BEKLE BENİ DÖNECEĞİM’ dedin mi? &lt;br /&gt;Beynim öylesine uğulduyordu ki... &lt;br /&gt;Duyamadım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;Nereye gittiğin önemli değildi. &lt;br /&gt;Binlerce kilometre uzaklarda dahi olsan, &lt;br /&gt;iki metre ötemde de fark etmiyordu. &lt;br /&gt;Artık yoktun ve asıl bu düşünce beni felç ediyordu. &lt;br /&gt;Kurtulmalıydım senden, &lt;br /&gt;bu yokluğun duygusundan kurtulmalıydım. &lt;br /&gt;Kurtulamadım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;unutulanların arasına katılmalıydın. &lt;br /&gt;Anıları bir sandığa koyup hayatı &lt;br /&gt;bir yerinden yakalamalıydım. &lt;br /&gt;Bu aşk noktalanmalıydı, &lt;br /&gt;bu sevdadan vazgeçmeliydim. &lt;br /&gt;Yapamadım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gittin... &lt;br /&gt;bir okyanusun ortasında, &lt;br /&gt;tek küreği kaybolmuş &lt;br /&gt;sandalda dev dalgalarla boğuşan bir denizciyim artık. &lt;br /&gt;Bil ki; Sevmekten vazgeçmedim seni, &lt;br /&gt;bil ki seninle birlikte sevdanıda taşıyacağım yüreğimde. &lt;br /&gt;Bil ki seni... &lt;br /&gt;unutamadım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yazan: Oğulcan Yılmaz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115046898984632353?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115046898984632353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115046898984632353&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115046898984632353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115046898984632353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/gittin.html' title='Gittin...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115046870652082253</id><published>2006-06-16T17:38:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T17:38:26.616+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Xsentius</title><content type='html'>Üç bin yil öncesinden, bir Anadolu tapinagindan günümüze kalan bir yazit. Yazittaki Xsentius&lt;br /&gt;adinin bir filozofa mi, yoksa&lt;br /&gt;Fethiye - Kas karayolu kenarindaki antik Likya kenti Ksantos'a mi ait oldugu, ögrenilememis henüz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gürültü patirtinin ortasinda sükunetle dolas; sessizligin içinde huzur bulundugunu unutma.&lt;br /&gt;Baska türlü davranmak açikça gerekmedikçe herkesle dost olmaya çalis. Sana bir kötülük&lt;br /&gt;yapildiginda verebilecegin en iyi karsilik,&lt;br /&gt;unutmak olsun. Bagisla ve unut. Ama kimseye teslim olma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Içten ol; telassiz, kisa ve açik seçik konus. Baskalarina da kulak ver. Karsindakiler aptal ve cahil&lt;br /&gt;olduklari zaman bile&lt;br /&gt;dinle onlari. Çünkü dünyada herkesin bir öyküsü vardir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yalniz planlarinin degil, baskalarinin da tadini çikarmaya çalis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isinle, ne kadar küçük olursa olsun ilgilen; hayattaki dayanagin odur. Sevecegin bir isi seçersen&lt;br /&gt;hayatinda bir an bile yorulmus&lt;br /&gt;olmazsin. Isini öyle sev ki, basarilarin bedenini ve yüregini güçlendirirken verdiklerinle de yepyeni&lt;br /&gt;hayatlar baslatmis olacaksin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oldugun gibi görün ve göründügün gibi ol. Sevmedigin zaman sever gibi yapma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çevrene önerilerde bulun ama hükmetme.&lt;br /&gt;Insanlari yargilarsan onlari sevmeye zamanin kalmaz. Ve unutma ki insanligin yüzyillardir ögrendikleri, sonsuz uzunlukta&lt;br /&gt;bir&lt;br /&gt;kumsaldaki tek bir kum taneciginden daha fazla degildir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aska burun kivirma sakin; o çölün ortasinda yemyesil bir bahçedir. O bahçeye layik bir bahçivan&lt;br /&gt;olmak için her bitkinin sürekli&lt;br /&gt;bakima ihtiyaci oldugunu unutma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaybetmeyi, ahlâksiz bir kazanç edinmeye tercih et. Ilkinin acisi bir an, ötekinin vicdan azabi ise, ömür&lt;br /&gt;boyu sürer. Bazi&lt;br /&gt;idealler, o kadar degerlidir ki o yolda maglup olman bile zafer sayilir. Bu dünyada birakacagin en büyük miras,&lt;br /&gt;dürüstlüktür.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yillarin akip gitmesine öfkelenme; gençlige yakisan seyleri gülümseyerek teslim et geçmise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yapamayacagin seylerin, yapabileceklerini engellemesine izin verme... Evreni yargilamak olanaksiz. Onun için gerekli&lt;br /&gt;kavgalarini&lt;br /&gt;sürdürürken bile kendi kendinle baris içinde ol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogdugun zamani hatirla, sen aglarken herkes sevinçle gülüyordu. Öyle bir ömür geçir&lt;br /&gt;ki, herkes aglasin öldügünde. Sen mutlulukla&lt;br /&gt;gülümse. Sabirli, sefkatli, bagislayici ol. Eninde sonunda bütün servetin yine sensin. Görmeye çalis&lt;br /&gt;ki, bütün pisligine ve&lt;br /&gt;kallesligine karsin bu dünya yine de insanoglunun biricik, güzel mekanidir."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115046870652082253?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115046870652082253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115046870652082253&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115046870652082253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115046870652082253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/xsentius.html' title='Xsentius'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115046864105015274</id><published>2006-06-16T17:36:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T17:37:21.523+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>SEVDIGIM: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bazen insanlar düsünürler. Hayatin anlami ne diye. Bunu zaman zaman ben de düsünüyorum. Hayatin&lt;br /&gt;anlami nedir diye?… En azindan&lt;br /&gt;seni taniyincaya kadar düsünüyordum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gerçeklerin aci oldugunu ve bu yüzden biberin gerçek oldugunu anlatan bir espriyi animsadim. Halbuki biliyor&lt;br /&gt;musun, bütün&lt;br /&gt;biberler tatlidir. Zira, hayat sanildigi kadar acimasiz ve aci degil, sadece hayattaki tadi alabilmeli, kendi istedigin gibi&lt;br /&gt;yasayamadiklarin ile beraber ölüp gittiginde çevrenin sana bir yardimi olmayacak. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendini özgür birak, ne hissediyorsan onu yap. Çogu insan gibi mesela benim gibi, ne yapman gerekiyorsa onu&lt;br /&gt;yapma, birak duygularini&lt;br /&gt;perdelemeyi, birak irmaklar gibi cossun. Bir sevdiginin elini tutarken yasadiklarinin yanlis oldugunu düsünüp&lt;br /&gt;hayiflanma.&lt;br /&gt;Birak o sevgi senin tüm benligini sarsin. Eger onun gerçekten aradigin olduguna inaniyorsan, ona simsiki saril,&lt;br /&gt;onu yasa,&lt;br /&gt;onu birakma… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Günün birinde belki anlarsin ne kadar sevdigini, ne kadar sevebilecegini, ne kadar sevildigini, ne kadar sevilebilecegini…&lt;br /&gt;Ama is isten geçmis, sevgilin, seni seven gitmis, yitmis olabilir. Iste o zaman üzülme vaktidir. Yerli yersiz&lt;br /&gt;aglama vaktidir.&lt;br /&gt;Iste o zaman çevrene dönüp, simdi ne yapacagim diye sorma vaktidir. Alacagin cevabi sana söyleyeyim&lt;br /&gt;güzelim; BILMIYORUM diyecekler,&lt;br /&gt;senin dedigin gibi… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben biliyorum oysa, oysa sende biliyordun. Hep bildin zaten. Ama öyle olmadin. Ama artik sen de biliyorsun, biliyorsun&lt;br /&gt;ki,&lt;br /&gt;en azindan bir kez gerçekten sevildin ve yine biliyorsun ki, bu sevgi bitmeyecek. En azindan ben bitene kadar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yasa.. Dogru bildigin insani bul ve onunla yasa, ama bu dostunu sakin unutma. Bil ki unutulmayi hiç sevmem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ve bil ki kurallarim vardir, herkes buna uymak zorundadir.&lt;br /&gt;¬ Dostlarim benden önce ölemezler,&lt;br /&gt;¬ Dostlarim benden çok üzülemezler,&lt;br /&gt;¬ Dostlarim benden çok sevemezler,&lt;br /&gt;¬ Ve dostlarimi kimse benden çok sevemez. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artik Ben'im dost'umsun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yasa Bu hayati sevdigim, limon gibi sömürerek, tüm eksiligine ragmen tadini alarak yasa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115046864105015274?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115046864105015274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115046864105015274&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115046864105015274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115046864105015274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/sevdigim-bazen-insanlar-dsnrler.html' title=''/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115039978398977854</id><published>2006-06-15T22:29:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T22:29:44.156+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Facts about Turkish</title><content type='html'>Here are some words in English with Turkish origins:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yogurt, pilaf, coffee, baklava, shish kebob, pita, kilim, sherbet, caviar, kielbasa, musakka ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some Turkish words with no English translation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eline Saglik"= literally, "Thank your hands." Usually used to thank a cook for a great meal.&lt;br /&gt;"Afiyet Olsun"= literally, "Fill your appetite," like the French "bon appetite." &lt;br /&gt;"Kolay Gelsin"= literally, "Come easily." Usually used to wish good luck and ease to manual workers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115039978398977854?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115039978398977854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115039978398977854&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115039978398977854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115039978398977854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/facts-about-turkish.html' title='Facts about Turkish'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115039905383151236</id><published>2006-06-15T22:17:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T22:17:33.963+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Life...</title><content type='html'>Life is like a game of baseball&lt;br /&gt;And you play it every day.&lt;br /&gt;It isn't just the breaks you get,&lt;br /&gt;But the kind of game you play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop and look the whole team over,&lt;br /&gt;You've got dedication there.&lt;br /&gt;You're bound to be a winner,&lt;br /&gt;With men who really care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your pitcher's name is courage,&lt;br /&gt;You need him in this game.&lt;br /&gt;For trust and faith your keystone men,&lt;br /&gt;The grounders they will tame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your centerfielder is very fast,&lt;br /&gt;Though small and hard to see.&lt;br /&gt;So watch him when he gets the ball,&lt;br /&gt;He's opportunity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first base there's religion,&lt;br /&gt;He's stood the test of time.&lt;br /&gt;At third base there is brotherhood,&lt;br /&gt;A stalwart of the nine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your leftfielder is ambition,&lt;br /&gt;Don't ever let him shirk.&lt;br /&gt;Rightfielder is a husky man,&lt;br /&gt;You'll find his name is work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your catcher's name is humor,&lt;br /&gt;He's important to the scheme.&lt;br /&gt;While honor is pitching from the bull pen,&lt;br /&gt;Your game is always clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With love on your bench,&lt;br /&gt;You've perfection, no less.&lt;br /&gt;And a winning team,&lt;br /&gt;With joy and happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other team is strong,&lt;br /&gt;Greed, envy, hatred, and defeat&lt;br /&gt;Are four strong infielders you'll have to buck,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make your game complete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discouragement and falsehood,&lt;br /&gt;Are the big boys in the pen.&lt;br /&gt;You'll have to swing hard,&lt;br /&gt;When you meet up with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carelessness and a man called waste,&lt;br /&gt;You'll find them playing hard.&lt;br /&gt;And selfishness and jealousy,&lt;br /&gt;None can you disregard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one more man you'll have to watch,&lt;br /&gt;He's always very near.&lt;br /&gt;He's the pitcher for this team,&lt;br /&gt;I'm told his name is fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game will not be easy,&lt;br /&gt;There'll be struggle, there'll be strife.&lt;br /&gt;To make the winning runs,&lt;br /&gt;For it's played on the field of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So stand behind your team,&lt;br /&gt;There'll be many who'll applaud.&lt;br /&gt;Just remember you are the player,&lt;br /&gt;And the umpire there is God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim "Mudcat" Grant&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115039905383151236?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115039905383151236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115039905383151236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115039905383151236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115039905383151236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/life.html' title='Life...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115039895771916178</id><published>2006-06-15T22:15:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T22:24:00.906+03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Memories of.Turkiye"</title><content type='html'>MEMORIES OF TURKEY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "eyes" have it. Wherever we went on our TraveLearn tour, in Western or Central Turkey (Thrace or Anatolia), from a magnificent palace on the Bosphorus, to a ramshackle roadside stand, we saw the ubiquitous "evil eye". Contrary to what we originally thought, the blue dot on the white orb on the blue disk does not wish harm to others - instead, its purpose is to ward off evil. The incongruous contrast of an evil eye pinned to a newborn's clothing, nailed to a door frame of an elegant mansion, or attached to the visor of a bus represent the extraordinary contrasts of cultures in Turkey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TraveLearn tours explore, explain and provide an understanding of past and present - telling not only about ancient traditions and customs and the current social and political situation in various destinations. Stone Age settlements, Hittites, Helen of Troy, Alexander the Great, Roman governors, St. John the Evangelist, Constantine, Justinian, Crusaders, Ottomans, and Sultans - all were predecessors for the modern Turkish republic. Turkey spans two continents - Europe and Asia - simply by crossing a bridge. Every day offered new and unique wonders. There are topless beaches co-existing with mosques topped by minarets that pierce the sky. We saw prehistoric cave painting preserved in an Ankara museum, exquisite and lavish palaces in Istanbul, beautiful Christina mosaics, and Islamic calligraphy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these are in stark contrast to our fascinating visit to the underground city in Derinkuyu, where thousands of Christians lived while hiding from Arab invaders during the 7th through 10th centuries. Those of us who weren't claustrophobic explored the dark narrow passages of the seven underground levels that have been excavated. (this site was so well hidden that it was only discovered in the 1960s). We marveled at how the inhabitants lived as we examined the kitchen (you can see the smoke stains), the school, church and stables for their animals. In the Goreme and Zelve Valleys we visited chapels and monasteries which were dug out of the rock cliffs during the Byzantine era. These structures were also used as hiding places and have brightly colored frescoes portraying the beliefs of the early Christians. A trip highlight was Cappadocia, the land of "Fairy chimneys" - our group was left breathless by the surrealistic landscape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those outstanding sites were totally different from two ancient Classical cities were visited Pergamum and Ephesus. As our bus drove along the coast of the Aegean Sea and up the steep and narrow mountain road to Pergamum, we caught sight of its impressive Acropolis. Pergamum is also the site of the Asclepion which is thought to be the world's first full-service health clinic. We walked though the health spa and learned that medical treatment was most often determined by patients' dreams. In Ephesus, which has been called the showpiece of Aegean archeology and one of the greatest reconstructed ancient sites in the world, our group was thrilled by everything - from the beautiful tow-story library to the amusing sight of the ancient and huge open-air men's lavatory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hallmark of TraveLearn programs are the on-site lectures, seminars and field experiences conducted by local resource specialists. Participants in our program had the opportunity to visit sites and facilities not often available to the average tourist. A uniquely Turkish experience was our visit to the 4th century Basilica Cistern in Old Constaninople (Istanbul). The Cistern is part of an underground network of waterways, still kept full, with hundreds of marble columns supporting Byzantine arches and domes. The sound of dripping water is accompanied by piped-in classical music which adds to the eerie atmosphere. The wide variety of Turkey's art, architecture, and archeology were exotic, fascinating, and intellectually stimulating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Turkish people are polite, friendly and very family oriented. The children are particularly warm with engaging smiles, and enthusiastic waves and hellos. Although 98% of the populace practice the Islamic religion, Turkey is a secular nation that respects religious freedom and tolerance. Our TraveLearn guide, Nilifer Iris, was a superb example of the modern educated Turkish woman. She formerly worked for NATO, was an expert on Turkish history, art, religion, and politics, and was a major reason that our trip was such a multi-faceted learning experience. TraveLearn programs are supervised by college faculty who are specialists in the fields of study encompassed within each programs and are well acquainted with the cultural opportunities available in the countries being visited. With a knowledgeable, articulate and enthusiastic leader, travel becomes a journey with a purpose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another unforgettable event our group attended was a shrilling dervish religious ceremony. Five men in oversize puffy "fez-like" hats prayed and then twirled around in white billowing pleated shirt costumes, while a black-robed priest walked among them. In the background, three musicians played and chanted. The ceremony lasted for about 45 minutes - the men whirled for at least half an hour. This event would have been interesting enough on its own, but what makes it truly extraordinary was the opportunity our group had to talk with two of the dervishes afterwards. Imagine witnessing this exotic other - worldly ritual and then having two young, clean-cut, good looking men dressed in well-fitted blue jeans and sport shirts come to talk with you. The contrast was almost too much to take in. They explained that whirling was how they shut out the outside world to communicate and pray to god. Each of them had non-religious jobs, was married, and their families also whirled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turkish food and drink were superb. Appetizers called mezzas, served at both lunch and dinner, were varied and excellent. The bread equaled fine French or Italian. Entrees featured lamb, fresh fish, tasty vegetable dishes with different but delicious seasonings. The rich desserts are worth every extra pound. Tea and coffee vie as the national drinks. Both the red and white Turkish wines were full-bodied and flavorful; the one Turkish beer is a tasty medium pilsner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many tour companies can bring you to the places you expect to go and show you the things you expect to see, but without contact with local people these experiences often feel as empty as if you had only viewed them on television. TraveLearn programs introduce you the people of the country you are visiting. Our last evening in Turkey was truly special. Though TraveLearn's extensive contacts, our group was invited to dinner at a private and luxurious mansion on the banks of the Bosphorus, Some of the guest included prominent Turkish industrialists, a number of Fulbright scholars, Istanbul's most popular radio personality, a prominent educator, and the former Turkish ambassador to the United Nations (who looked remarkably like Ronald Reagan). The food and drink are wonderful and conversation and stimulating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at Turkey with American eyes under the protection of the "evil eye" was an enthralling experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MEMORIES OF TURKEY II&lt;br /&gt;Taking a deep breath and crouching low, I descend into a cramped, dark passageway leading seven levels down into the bowels of the earth. With my TraveLearn companions we enter the church where the 4th century Christian cave dwellers hid from the Roman soldiers and worshipped their God. Niches carve into the walls once held torches and oil wick lamps to illuminate their church and the winery, kitchens, a theological college and living quarters where 2000 inhabitants carried on their lives during sieges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in the Cappadocia region with its moonscapes and fairy tale rock formations exploring and learning about the country of Turkey. Our group has traveled through small villages, explored underground cities, and walked through valleys to visit ancient cave churches. A forest of towering stone mushrooms looms ahead, and Iris, the brilliant and funny TraveLearn nation guide, introduces us to the subtleties of a different culture, telling us stories of the people and the land that we could never discover in library books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Goreme we walk narrow paths among rock pillars and cliffs to inspect another important site of early Christian churches. These are wondrous structures painstakingly carved into the volcanic tufa rock with names that speak of ancient saints, monks and martyrs: the Church of St. Basil, the Church of Barbara, the church of St. George (and, of course, the dragon), the Dark church and the Church of the Apple. Frescoes painted in red on the carved walls depicting mushroom shaped symbols, stylized Maltese crosses and an early cross in rosette form. These faithful did not pray at the same church each day, but made a pilgrimage though the stony valley from one small chapel carved into the rock walls to another. We are following in their footsteps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today after a strenuous climb we are standing on marble slabs of a ruined temple in the acropolis city of Pergamum. We look out over a stunning vista of miles of rugged hills where Paul preached and John the beloved roamed. Gleaming columns and fortress walls that have stood for centuries are now home to dozens of friendly feral dogs and cats that accompany us as a honor guard as we explore the ruin of temples and a theater that appears to cling precipitously to the steep mountain side. We talk of the people who lived here and of the people who live in this region today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we journey to Ephesus where the ancient city is left almost intact, as if the inhabitants had just left on a long vacation and would return some day. It is a city that you can a spend day walking through, exploring streets paved with stones and marble where blocks of ruined columns and statues stand guard. Temples, theaters, the scholastikia, the library, the otion (recital hall), the gymnasium, the hippodrome, the bank, the commercial agora, the vomitariium (exit gates) and the baths all await us. Foundations of homes and shops with intricate mosaic floors of blue, red and cream draw our admiration. Even an ancient house of ill repute is explored where we see in ancient art the portraits of lovely young women of diverse ethnic backgrounds. We pause in the men's latrine to sit on marble toilet slabs and muse about the midget slave who played violin to cover the bodily sounds of the clients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would have anticipated the rich variety and beautiful presentation of Turkish cuisine. Iris introduces us to the intricacies of a Sultan's abundance of fresh seafood from many familiar and unknown species (sea bass, trout, salmon, octopus, mussels, calamari, fish egg salad), often displayed live in tanks where they awaited your selection. Every meal is a pleasant adventure such as sitting in a cozy room of blue and white tiled walls under a chandelier at the Pandelli Restaurant in the Spice Market of Istanbul eating a heavenly dish of sea bass in paper. We consume with gusto the meatballs, shish , pieces of roast lamb on a bed of eggplant puree, and borek-flaky pastries filled with grated meat and vegetables. At a traditional dinner in a family home we dine sumptuously on an old Ottoman recipe of chicken breast in a sauce of yogurt, honey, onion, apricot and grapes. Our food is often served on fine pottery plates which have been produced since the Phrygian period painted in intricate designs in pointillism style with motifs of carnations, tulips, fish, and the tree of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sample the elegant: caviar, pate, quail legs, and srma (rice wrapped in grape leaves). And we sample the simple: vegetables and fruit in their freshest and most appealing; pilaki, a cold white bean salad; a savory goat cheese; olive, hazel nuts, and almonds; and fresh Turkish yogurt (a rich pudding often with fresh fruits). Next we try the Aryan ( a smooth, thick buttermilk drink). Samples of "pumps", hard pastry shells filled with a sweet, cream filling, and lokam, the Turkish Delight candies, are munched with relish. Desserts are my special passion, and I indulge in a diverse variety of pastries make with honey and pistachios; a dessert called Noah's pudding ( a pudding base with everything left in the ark at the end of the trip-nuts, fruits, etc.); a small cake of shredded wheat layered with cream cheese, fired in butter and served hot; plates of slice apples, kiwi and tangerines drizzled in the local honey; and a wonderful quince "sweet", a gelatin like sweet, rich cake topped by hard cream and sprinkled with powdered pistachio. Of course we drink gallons of Turkish coffee served with a lot of sugar. Coffee was invented in Turkey and from there captured the European continent. We also enjoy a lovely apple tea drank from small glass cups presented on silver trays. Some of us discover that rakau, the transparent, anise-flavored liquor is a drink only for the brave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We learn. We learn from Iris constantly through anecdotes and stories. We learn from the countless sights and hands-on experiences in our travels. And we learn from the hospitable Turkish people. We visit the lovely home on the Bosphorus of a well known family. Two generations of an extended family group are present for a Turkish dinner and pleasant evening of sharing conversation. From them we learn about life in modern Istanbul, and we laugh together. Our new friends sing a traditional Turkish love ballad to us. And then cajole us to join them in a rendition of "Oh, Susannah".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our experience is constantly enriched through presentations by experts including a professor who discusses the status of Turkish women, the former Turkish ambassador to the US who chats with us on economic development in modern Turkey, and the director of the American school in Istanbul who outlines educational curriculum reform. We learn more of Turkish culture when the head of a carpet gallery explains the design patterns in nomadic carpets, when a famous sixth generation Turkish potter demonstrates the early methods of throwing a pot, and when we converse with young Sufi ministers following their mystic dervish ritual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering the 49 groupings of people, the 49 different cultures and civilizations that have occupied the land we know as Turkey from prehistory times until today, it is hard to describe a typical Turkish citizen. It is hard to pinpoint a typical Turkish philosophy or product or art style or culinary dish. The Turkey we discovered is complex and ancient-far more ancient than I had imagined with archeological sites dating to 8000 BC. The Turkey we discovered is a fascinating and rich mosaic of ethnic and religious influences, of eastern and western ideas and art, a vast and diverse country with endless variety in landscape, architecture, culinary delights and friendly, hospitable people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We leave Turkey with a mosaic of sounds-the city sounds of Istanbul street hawkers, the shriek of a camel in Cappadocia, the noisy chatter of school children dressed in blue uniforms, the meow of a calico cat in the ruins of Ephesus, the roar of tractors pulling loads of cotton to market; and we store away a mosaic of colors-the tobacco dye color of a Turkish rug, the golden flow of apple tea, the turquoise blue of the Mediterranean at Izmir, the white of the Sufi dancers' robes, the red clay color of the earliest frescos at Goreme. I touch my newly purchased carpet and realize it is a link to many memories of our TraveLearn experience. We leave with the traditional greeting of those departing a Turkish home, "Allaha tsmarladik" (Good bye, God be with you). We listen for the response from our host, "Gule gule" (go smiling).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pls kindly watch the film at first .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.windofanatolia.com.tr/thefilm.asp&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115039895771916178?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115039895771916178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115039895771916178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115039895771916178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115039895771916178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/memories-ofturkiye.html' title='&quot;Memories of.Turkiye&quot;'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115039874805757834</id><published>2006-06-15T22:11:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T22:12:28.523+03:00</updated><title type='text'>FLOWER OF LIFE</title><content type='html'>A Poem by Eileen Finch Cain&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F eel the goodness in all forms of life&lt;br /&gt;L ove all things; let go of strife&lt;br /&gt;O pen your petals; let love flow in&lt;br /&gt;W iden the gap; let love grow within&lt;br /&gt;E rase the scars of the past&lt;br /&gt;R est in the assurance that only love lasts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O wn your self-worth in spite of what others may say&lt;br /&gt;F ind again the peace in your day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L ive your potential; let the world know&lt;br /&gt;I nto yourself let a new energy flow&lt;br /&gt;F ind out you have so much to give&lt;br /&gt;E mbrace love; laugh and life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be joyous and free&lt;br /&gt;Be all that you are and ever could be!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115039874805757834?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115039874805757834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115039874805757834&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115039874805757834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115039874805757834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/flower-of-life.html' title='FLOWER OF LIFE'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115029979841020906</id><published>2006-06-14T18:41:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T18:43:18.843+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Knowledge is to understand&lt;br /&gt;To understand who you are.&lt;br /&gt;If you know not who you are&lt;br /&gt;What's the use of learning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The aim in learning is&lt;br /&gt;To understand God's Truth.&lt;br /&gt;Because without knowledge &lt;br /&gt;It is wasted hard labour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not say: I know it all,&lt;br /&gt;I am obedient to my God.&lt;br /&gt;If you know not who God is&lt;br /&gt;That is sheer idle talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty-eight syllables&lt;br /&gt;You read from end to end.&lt;br /&gt;You name the first `alpha''&lt;br /&gt;What can it possibly mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yunus Emre says also&lt;br /&gt;Let me receive what I need.&lt;br /&gt;The best possible thing&lt;br /&gt;Is to find perfect peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yunus Emre (?1238-?1320)&lt;br /&gt;Translated by Taner Baybars&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115029979841020906?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115029979841020906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115029979841020906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029979841020906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029979841020906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/knowledge-is-to-understand-to.html' title=''/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115029933069060808</id><published>2006-06-14T18:35:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T15:37:26.493+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sokrates: Ölerek yaşamın onurunu korumak; Sokrates'in savunması</title><content type='html'>Siz Atina erkekleri, belki de sözlerimin yeterli olmadığını; sizleri ikna edebileceğim sözlerden imtina edişimin davayı kaybetmeme yol açtığını düşünüyorsunuz. Hiç de öyle değil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir yoksunluktan ötürü yenildim, ama bu sözlerin yetersizliği değil, arsızlığın, küstahlığın ve terbizyesizliğin yetersizliğiydi ve ağlayarak, sızlayarak, yakınarak, şikayet ederek ve başka bir çok şey yaparak,onuruma yakışmadığını inandığım şeyleri söyleyerek başkalarından duymaya alışkın olduğunuz, duymaktan hoşlanacağınız şeyleri dile getirmeye razı olmayışımdan ötürü oluşan eksiklikti. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayrıca ne daha önce durumumun vehametine bakıp özgür bir erkeğe yakışamayacak şekilde davranmam gerektiğine inandım, ne de şimdi kendimi böyle savunmuş olmaktan pişmanlık duyuyorum; bu tarz savunmayla ölümüme yol açmayı, öteki tarz savunmayla yaşamaya yeğ tutuyorum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çünkü ne mahkemenin karşısında, ne savaşta, ne de başka bir yerde insan kendini ölünden kaçmak için her şeyi yapacak duruma getirmemeli. Muharebelerde sık sık,silahlarını atıp kendini kovalayanlara yalvarıp yakaranların canlarını kurtardıkları görülmüştür ve hiç bir eylemden ve sözden kaçınmamayı göze aldıktan sonra her türlü tehlikeden ve ölümden kurtulmanın başka bir yolu bulunmaktadır. Ancak, siz erkekler, zor olan, ölümden kaçınmak değildir; bundan çok daha zor olan, kötülükten kaçınabilmektir, çünkü o, ölümden çok daha hızlı koşar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ve şimdi yavaşlamış ve yaşlanmışken, daha yavaş olan tehlike bana yetişti; (benden) daha güçlü ve çevik olan davacılarıma ise hızlı olanı, kötülük yetişti. Ve şimdi çekip gidiyoruz artık: ben sizlerce ölüm cezasına çarptırılarak, sizler ise doğruluk tarafından alçaklık ve adaletsizlikten suçlu bulunarak. Ve ben, aynen sizler gibi (ama farklı nedenlerle), bu hükümden memnunum. Bu böyle sonuçlanmalıydı ve böylesinin iyi olduğuna inanıyourum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şimdi size, beni ölüme mahkum etmiş olan sizlere, bir kehanette bulunup bundan sonra ne olacağını bildirmek istiyorum; malum, ben insanların kehanette en yakın oldukları konuma erişmiş bulunuyorum: yani ölüme. Dolayısıyla beni ölüme havale etmiş olan sizleri, ben ölür ölmez, tanrı inandırsın ki, bana verdiğinizden çok daha sert olan bir ceza bekliyor. Bundan sonra hayatınızı yönlendirişinizin hesabını vermekten kurtulacağınızı sandığınız için böyle davrandınız; ama umduğunuzdan bambaşka şeyler gelecek başınıza diyorum size; sizden hesap soracak olan ve şimdiye kadar öne çıkmalarına engel olduğum için hiç bir şey fark etmediğiniz çok kimse gelecek. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ve ne kadar gençseler o kadar inatçı ve ısrarcı olacaklar ve sizler buna çok daha fazla öfkeleneceksiniz. Doğru yaşamadığınız için insanları öldürerek suçlanmaları önleyebileceğinize inanıyorsanız, yanlış hüküm veriyorsunuz demektir; çünkü bu tarz bir temizlenme gerçekleşmesi tamamen imkansız bir temizlenmedir ve güzel değildir; daha güzel ve kolayı, başkalarını rahatsız etmeyen ve mümkün olduğu kadar iyi olacak şekilde kendini yükselten temizlenmedir. İşte beni mahkum etmiş olan sizlere önceden söyleyeceklerim bunlardır ve sizlere veda ediyorum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115029933069060808?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115029933069060808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115029933069060808&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029933069060808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029933069060808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/sokrates-lerek-yaamn-onurunu-korumak.html' title='Sokrates: Ölerek yaşamın onurunu korumak; Sokrates&apos;in savunması'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115029835287648998</id><published>2006-06-14T18:18:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T18:19:12.953+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Can Dündar'dan İki Kadın...</title><content type='html'>"Kral Oidipus", Sophokles'in yazdığı büyük trajedinin mitolojik kahramanıdır:&lt;br /&gt;Laneti, daha o doğmadan başlar. Ana rahmine düştüğünde kahinler, babası Thebai Kralı Laios'u uyarırlar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Doğacak oğlun ileride seni öldürecek ve annesiyle evlenecek."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne İokaste bu acı kaderden kurtulabilmek için doğar doğmaz oğlunu bir çobana verir. Oidipus'u, ormanda vahşi hayvanlara terk etmesini ister. Ama çoban acır bebeğe ve onu Korinth kralının adamlarından birine teslim eder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Korinth'te kendini kralın oğlu sanarak yetişir Oidipus... Ancak başına gelecekleri yine kahinlerden öğrenir:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Senin kaderinde babanı öldürüp, annenle evleneceğin yazılı."&lt;br /&gt;Korkar Oidipus... Kaderinden ve anne babası sandığı Korinth'lerden kaçar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Yolda yaşlı bir adamla kavga eder ve kendine hakim olamayarak onu öldürür. Öldürdüğü adam, babası Laios'tur.&lt;br /&gt;     Yolculuğu onu Thebai'ye dek götürür. Orada gençleri yutan, insan başlı dev aslanı yener, Thebaililer, önceden aldıkları karar uyarınca kendilerini kurtaran kahramanın kraliçeleriyle evlenmesini isterler. Oidipus, annesi olduğunu bilmeden İokaste ile evlenir ve Thebai şehrinin kralı olur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     O günden sonra büyük bir veba salgını başlar kentte... Thebaililerin çoğu ölür. Bir medyum, "Bütün bu felaketler Oidipus'un iki günahı yüzünden" der:&lt;br /&gt;     "O, hem babasını öldürdü, hem de annesi ile evlendi."&lt;br /&gt;     Gerçek anlaşılınca İokaste intiharı seçer. Oidipus ise acı içinde kör eder kendi gözlerini... Bilmeden işlediği ve engellemek için onca çabaladığı günahın cezasını çekmiştir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Freud, ünlü keşfi "Oidipus kompleksi"nin adını bu öyküden almıştır.&lt;br /&gt;     Erkek çocuğun annesine karşı hissettiği aşk, kendine rakip olarak gördüğü babasından nefret etmesine yol açar Freud'a göre...&lt;br /&gt;     Bu düşmanlığın kökeninde, güçsüz biçarenin, annesinin koruyuculuğunu, besleyiciliğini, sevgisini kaybetmeme çabası vardır.&lt;br /&gt;     Freud'un psikanalizini geliştiren Erich Fromm, erkek çocuğun "anne bağımlılığı"nın yetişkinlikte de sürdüğünü ve erkeklerin eşlerinde bile annelerini aradıklarını söyler.&lt;br /&gt;     Aslında peşinde oldukları şey, çocukluktaki "cennet"tir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Fromm'a göre erkeklerde rastlanan bütün ruhsal dengesizliklerin kökeninde annelerinin yarattığı cennetin özlemiyle, yetişkinlikte içine düştükleri cehennem arasındaki çelişki vardır.&lt;br /&gt;     "Bu çelişki..." der Fromm, "...boşanmaların temel nedenlerinden biridir."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Her erkeğin ilk kadınıdır anne...&lt;br /&gt;     İlk gördüğü, ilk öptüğü, ilk sarıldığı kadın...&lt;br /&gt;     Ona yemeyi, yürümeyi, konuşmayı, giderek sevmeyi öğreten ilk aşkı...&lt;br /&gt;     Kokladığı ilk ten, duyduğu ilk ses, yaslandığı ilk omuz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En uzun sürecek ilişkisinin, hayatı boyunca terk etmeyeceği kahramanı...&lt;br /&gt;Gün gelip büyüyünce de, artık karşılaştığı her kadında o eski kokuyu, o ilk sesi, o sıcak omuzu arayacak, her yeni aşkını onunla kıyaslayacak, uzandığı her dizde, aynı şefkati okşayışı arzulayacaktır.&lt;br /&gt;Bazen de bu arayıştan kurtulabilmek için bambaşka kadınlara kaçacak, bilmeden işlediği bir ilk günahın cezasını çekercesine yaşam boyu vebalı gelgitler içinde çırpınacak, çocukluğunun cennetini özleyerek yetişkinliğinin cehennemine koşacaktır.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İlkel toplumlarda ölenleri, ana rahmindekine benzer bir pozisyonda, dizleri karınlarına çekilmiş şekilde gömerlermiş.&lt;br /&gt;Kim bilir, belki de yaşadıkları onca cehennemden sonra yeniden hayatın başladığı yere, o "anaç cennet"e dönebilmeleri içindir. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milliyet&lt;br /&gt;13/05/2001&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115029835287648998?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115029835287648998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115029835287648998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029835287648998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029835287648998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/can-dndardan-iki-kadn.html' title='Can Dündar&apos;dan İki Kadın...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115029813181728327</id><published>2006-06-14T18:15:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T18:15:32.636+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ne Ağlarsın...</title><content type='html'>Ne ağlarsın benim zülfü siyahım&lt;br /&gt;Bu da gelir bu da geçer ağlama&lt;br /&gt;Göklere erişti feryadım ahım&lt;br /&gt;Bu da gelir bu da geçer ağlama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gülün çevresi dikendir, hardır&lt;br /&gt;Bülbül gül elinden ah ile zardır&lt;br /&gt;Ne de olsa kışın sonu bahardır&lt;br /&gt;Bu da gelir bu da geçer ağlama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daimiyem her can ermez bu sırra &lt;br /&gt;Eyüp sabır ile gitti Mısır'a&lt;br /&gt;Koyun oldum ağladım ardısıra&lt;br /&gt;Bu da gelir bu da geçer ağlama &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Söz: Aşık Daimi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115029813181728327?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115029813181728327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115029813181728327&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029813181728327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029813181728327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/ne-alarsn.html' title='Ne Ağlarsın...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115029803559160216</id><published>2006-06-14T18:13:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T18:13:55.726+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Çocuksun Sen</title><content type='html'>1 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dünyanın dışına atılmış bir adımdın sen &lt;br /&gt;Ömrümüzse karşılıksız sorulardı hepsi bu &lt;br /&gt;Şu samanyolu hani avuçlarından dökülen &lt;br /&gt;Kum taneleri var ya onlardan birindeyim &lt;br /&gt;Yeni bir yolculuğa çıkıyorum kar yağıyor &lt;br /&gt;Bir aşk tipiye tutuluyor daha ilk dönemeçte &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çocuksun sen sesindeki tipiye tutulduğum &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dönüşen ve suya dönüşen sorular soruyorsun &lt;br /&gt;Sesin bir çağlayan olup dolduruyor uçurumlarımı &lt;br /&gt;Kötü bir anlatıcıyım oysa ben ve ne zaman &lt;br /&gt;Birisi adres sorsa önce silaha davranıyorum &lt;br /&gt;Kekemeyim en az kasabalı aşklar kadar mahçup &lt;br /&gt;Ve üzgün kentler arıyorum ayrılıklar için &lt;br /&gt;Bir yanlışlığım bu dünyada en az senin kadar &lt;br /&gt;Ve sen kendi küllerini savuruyorsun dağa taşa &lt;br /&gt;Bir daha doğmamak için doğmak diyorsun &lt;br /&gt;Ölümlülerin işi bir de mutlu olanların &lt;br /&gt;Onların hep bir öyküsü olur ve yaşarlar &lt;br /&gt;Bırakıp gidemezler alıştıkları ne varsa &lt;br /&gt;Çocuksun sen her ayrılıkta imlası bozulan &lt;br /&gt;Susan bir çocuktan daha büyük bir tehdit &lt;br /&gt;Ne olabilir, sorumun karşılığını bilmiyor kimse &lt;br /&gt;Kötü bir anlatıcıyım oysa ben ve ne zaman &lt;br /&gt;Bir kaza olsa adı aşk oluyor artık &lt;br /&gt;Aşksa dünyanın çoktan unuttuğu bir tansık &lt;br /&gt;Seni bekliyorum orda, o kirlenen ütopyada &lt;br /&gt;Kirpiklerime düşüyorsun bir çiy damlası olarak &lt;br /&gt;Yumuyorum gözlerimi göz kapaklarımın içindesin &lt;br /&gt;Sonsuz bir uykuya dalıyorum sonra ve sen &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiç büyümüyorsun artık iyi ki büyümüyorsun &lt;br /&gt;Adınla başlıyorum her şiire ve her mısrada &lt;br /&gt;Esirgeyensin bağışlayansın, biad ediyorum. &lt;br /&gt;Çocuksun sen ve bu dünya sana göre değil &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çocuksun sen sesinin çağlayanına düştüm &lt;br /&gt;Bir çiçeğe tutundum düşerken, ordayım hâlâ &lt;br /&gt;Sallanıp durmaktayım bir saatin sarkacı &lt;br /&gt;Nasıl gidip geliyor gidip geliyorsa öyle &lt;br /&gt;Zaman benim işte, nesneleşiyor tüm anlar &lt;br /&gt;Dursam ölürüm paramparça olur dünya &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çocuksun sen sesinin çağlayanına düştüğüm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uçurum diyordun bir aşk uçurum özlemidir &lt;br /&gt;Bırakıyorum öyleyse kendimi sesinin boşluğuna &lt;br /&gt;Tutunabileceğim tüm umutları görmiyeyim için &lt;br /&gt;Gözlerimi bağlıyorum geceyi mendil yaparak &lt;br /&gt;(Gözlerim bir yerlerde daha bağlanmıştı, bunu &lt;br /&gt;Unutmuyorum unutmuyorum unutmuyorum hiç) &lt;br /&gt;Bir rüzgâr esse ellerin fesleğen kokuyor &lt;br /&gt;Kırlangıçlar konuyor alnına akşamüstleri &lt;br /&gt;Bu yüzden bir kanat sesiyim yamaçlarda &lt;br /&gt;Üzgün bir erguvan ağacıyla konuşuyorum &lt;br /&gt;Ayrılığın zorlaştığı yerdeyim ve dalgınlığım &lt;br /&gt;Bir mülteci hüznüne dönüyor artık bu kentte &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çocuksun sen alnına kırlangıçlar konan &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir bulutun peşine takılıp gittiğimiz yer &lt;br /&gt;Okyanus diyelim istersen ya da sen söyle &lt;br /&gt;Batık bir gemiyim orda, seni bekliyorum &lt;br /&gt;Upuzun bir sessizliğim fırtınalar patlarken &lt;br /&gt;Gövdem köle tacirlerinin barut yanıkları içinde &lt;br /&gt;Ve gittikçe acıtıyor yaralarımı tuzlu su &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çocuksun sen, büyümek yakışmazdı hiç &lt;br /&gt;Gülüşünün kokusuyla yeşerdi bu elma ağacı &lt;br /&gt;(Soluğunun elma kokması bundandı belki) &lt;br /&gt;Bir elma kokusuna tutundum düşerken &lt;br /&gt;Sallanıp durmaktayım bir saatin sarkacı &lt;br /&gt;Nasıl gidip geliyor gidip geliyorsa öyle &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çocuksun sen, çocuğumsun&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115029803559160216?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115029803559160216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115029803559160216&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029803559160216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029803559160216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/ocuksun-sen.html' title='Çocuksun Sen'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115029795525301869</id><published>2006-06-14T18:11:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T18:12:35.746+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mutlu Aşk Yoktur Ki Dünyada</title><content type='html'>Aslında hiçbir şey kâr değil insana&lt;br /&gt;Ne gücü ne zayıf yanları ne de yüreği&lt;br /&gt;Gölgesi bir haç gölgesidir kollarını açsa&lt;br /&gt;Ve kırar göğsüne bastırırken sevdiği şeyi&lt;br /&gt;Tuhaf bir ayrılıktır hayatı kapkara&lt;br /&gt;Mutlu aşk yok ki dünyada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hani giydirilmiş erler bir başka yazgıya&lt;br /&gt;İşte o silahsız erlere benzer hayatı&lt;br /&gt;Sabahları o yazgı için uyanmış olsalar da&lt;br /&gt;Tükenmiştirler ve kararsızdırlar akşamları&lt;br /&gt;Söyle yavrum şu sözleri sakın ağlama&lt;br /&gt;Mutlu aşk yok ki dünyada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Güzel aşkım tatlı aşkım çıbanım derdim&lt;br /&gt;Yaralı bir kuş gibi taşırım seni şuramda&lt;br /&gt;Ve görmeden bakanlar şu halimize bizim &lt;br /&gt;Süzdüğüm sözleri söylerler benden sonra&lt;br /&gt;Ve her şey der demez ölür iri gözlerin uğruna&lt;br /&gt;Mutlu aşk yok ki dünyada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yaşamayı öğrenmek bizimçin geçti çoktan&lt;br /&gt;Ağlasın gece içinde kalplerimiz yan yana&lt;br /&gt;En küçük şarkıyı mutsuzluktur kurtaran&lt;br /&gt;Her ürperiş borçlu baştan bir hayıflanmaya&lt;br /&gt;Ve her kitar havası beslenir bir hıçkırıkla&lt;br /&gt;Mutlu aşk yok ki dünyada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acılara batmamış bir aşk söyle bana&lt;br /&gt;Yıkmamış kıymamış olsun bir aşk söyle&lt;br /&gt;Bir aşk söyle sarartıp soldurmamış ama&lt;br /&gt;İnan ki senden artık değil yurt sevgisi de&lt;br /&gt;Bir aşk yok ki paydos demiş göz yaşlarına&lt;br /&gt;Mutlu aşk yok ki dünyada&lt;br /&gt;Ama şu aşk ikimizin öyle de olsa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Çeviren: Cemal Süreya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115029795525301869?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115029795525301869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115029795525301869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029795525301869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115029795525301869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/mutlu-ak-yoktur-ki-dnyada.html' title='Mutlu Aşk Yoktur Ki Dünyada'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115021484027295080</id><published>2006-06-13T19:05:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T19:07:20.566+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sana Değmez - Üç Hürel</title><content type='html'>Nasıl sevmişse bu divane gönül&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Öyle bilecek unutmasını da.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasıl kanmışsa ....gözlerine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Başka gözlerde avunmasını da&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Akıtmam gözümün kanlı yaşını&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uğrunda ağlayıp yanmaya değmez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birkaç mektupla bir sararmış resme&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;Bakıp da seni anmaya değmez.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Anmaya değmez, &lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;Sana değmez, sana değmez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne acılar çektik, ne dertler gördük.&lt;br /&gt;Senin yokluğun bana nedir ki sanki?&lt;br /&gt;Üç gün, beş gün, bilemedin birkaç ay&lt;br /&gt;Sonunda birgün söküp atmak çok kolay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasıl sevmişse bu divane gönül&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Öyle bilecek unutmasını da.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasıl kanmışsa ....gözlerine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Başka gözlerde avunmasını da&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Akıtmam gözümün kanlı yaşını&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Uğrunda ağlayıp yanmaya değmez.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Birkaç mektupla bir sararmış resme&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Bakıp da seni anmaya değmez.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Anmaya değmez, &lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;Sana değmez, sana değmez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne acılar çektik, ne dertler gördük.&lt;br /&gt;Senin yokluğun bana nedir ki sanki?&lt;br /&gt;Üç gün, beş gün, bilemedin birkaç ay&lt;br /&gt;Sonunda birgün söküp atmak çok kolay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115021484027295080?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115021484027295080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115021484027295080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115021484027295080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115021484027295080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/sana-demez-hrel.html' title='Sana Değmez - Üç Hürel'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115013613482462300</id><published>2006-06-12T21:13:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T21:15:56.456+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Cold To Trust ...</title><content type='html'>Realised today&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a single friend,&lt;br /&gt;sister or brother,&lt;br /&gt;to talk to mother,&lt;br /&gt;but I can't burden you with this.&lt;br /&gt;Realised I count many&lt;br /&gt;but cannot count on one to trust, to be gentle&lt;br /&gt;with my heart, yet true --&lt;br /&gt;and strong.&lt;br /&gt; Realise I long to sit&lt;br /&gt;with stars on grass&lt;br /&gt;and touch, not legs or arms&lt;br /&gt;but spirits, to build not harm&lt;br /&gt;Realise I'm alone, not lonely,&lt;br /&gt;surviving, not living,&lt;br /&gt;refusing to blame myself&lt;br /&gt;for not accepting.&lt;br /&gt;I Realise I'm too cold to trust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115013613482462300?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115013613482462300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115013613482462300&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115013613482462300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115013613482462300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/too-cold-to-trust.html' title='Too Cold To Trust ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115005213368134643</id><published>2006-06-11T21:54:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T22:13:46.030+03:00</updated><title type='text'>KIRKINCI ODA...</title><content type='html'>Ne kadarınız gerçek sizin, kırk odalı şatonuzun kırkıncı odasındaki kilitler altında sakladığınız gerçek duygularınızla, gerçek düşüncelerinizin ne kadarı yansıyor hayatınıza, söylenmeyen neler var kuytularda, hani kendinizden bile sakladığınız, bir sinir kriziyle ya da büyük bir acıyla yahut da muhteşem bir sevinçle kabuğunu çatlatıp da ortalara dökülecek neler biriktiriyorsunuz içinizde...??? Ne kadarınız kendi sahtekarlığınızın esiri? Sevip de söyleyemediğiniz, özleyip de açıklayamadığınız ya da sevmeyip de sevginizin eksikliğini içinize gömdüğünüz oluyor mu, korkaklıklar var mı,kalleşlikler var mı, yoksa diplerde saklanan cesaretiniz bir işaret mi bekliyor...??? Göründüğünüz insan mısınız siz, yoksa bir define arayıcısı hazineler mi bulur içinizde ya da yıkılmış bir kentin harabelerini mi taşıyorsunuz? Derununuzda neler saklıyorsunuz? Ne kadarınız gerçek sizin? Ülkenizle ilgili düşüncelerinizi söylüyor musunuz, yoksa başınızı belaya sokmayacak kadar akıllı mısınız, gerçek düşüncelerinizi başbaşa konuşmalara mı saklıyorsunuz, açıkça konuşanları biraz aptal buluyor musunuz? Günahlardan yapılmış hayaller var mı içinizde, günahtan korktuğunuzdan bunları saklayıp Tanrı'yı mı kandırmaya uğraşıyorsunuz? Günahları sevmiyor musunuz, seviyor musunuz yoksa...??? Uzun bir yolculuğa çıkar gibi duygularınızla düşüncelerinizi denklere sarıp da içlerinizde bir yerlere mi yerleştirdiniz, bir gün yolculuk bitince açmayı mı düşünüyorsunuz aslında yolculuğun hiç bitmeyeceğini ve denklerinizi hiç açmayacağınızı bilerek... Bir gün çıldırsanız da bütün duygularınızla düşüncelerinizi açıkça söyleseniz, neler duyacağız sizlerden, gizli palyaçolar mı çıkacak ortaya, yoksa korkaklığın altında, bir istiridyenin içinde büyüyen inciler gibi büyümüş yiğitlikler mi? Kızgınlıklarınız yok mu sizin, öfkeleriniz, isyanlarınız? Aşklarınız yok mu? Kendi sahtekarlığınıza ne kadar esirsiniz? Esaretten kurtulsanız da gerçekler dökülse ortaya, kendinize şaşar mısınız, hiç düşündüğünüz oluyor mu kırkıncı odada neler var diye, hangi unutulmaya çalışılmış sevgililer, dile getirilmeyen özlemler, söylenmeye söylenmeye birikmiş öfkeler, hangi boşvermişlikler, hangi inkar edilmiş arzular yatıyor diplerde? Ne kadarınız gerçek sizin? Kimselerden korkmadığınız kadar korkuyor musunuz kendinizden? Şehrin ışıklarının bulutlara yansıdığı turuncu pırıltılı külrengi bir gecede, şimşeklerle boşanan yağmur başladığında şatonuzun odalarında bir gezintiye çıkıyor musunuz, ağır ağır yaklaşıp o kırkıncı odaya açıyor musunuz kapıyı usulca, gördükleriniz ağlatıyor mu sizi, bu kadar gerçeği o odada saklayıp, hayatı yalandan yaşadığınızı farketmek nasıl bir sarsıntı yaratıyor? yoksa, ne gökyüzüne vuran ışıklar, ne yağmur, ne de ıssız gece, sizin kırkıncı odaya yaklaşmanızı sağlayamıyor mu, korkuyor musunuz kendi gerçeklerinizden, kırkıncı odanız size de mi kapalı, kendi kendinize bile mahrem misiniz? Ne kadarınız gerçek sizin? Ne kadarınız kendi sahtekarlığına esir? Bıktığınız olmuyor mu kendi yalanlarınızdan, hiç kendinizden sıkıldığınız olmuyor mu, kendinizi bir yerlerde terkedip de gitmek istemiyor musunuz, bütün yalanlarınızdan uzak bir yere? Şöyle rahatça bütün duygularınızı, bütün düşüncelerinizi söyleyebileceğiniz bir diyara, kendinizi bile yanınıza almadan. Ah aslında ben onu seviyordum diye ağlayacağınız kimleri saklıyorsunuz koynunuzda, yüksek sesle eleştirip de içinizden hak verdiğiniz hangi düşünceler var, kendinizi akıllı bulurken aslında gizlice kendi korkaklığınızdan utandığınızın itirafını nerelerde gizliyorsunuz? Ne kadarınız gerçek sizin? Ne kadarınız kendi sahtekarlığına esir? Bunu hiç düşündüğünüz oluyor mu yoksa bunu düşünmek bile yasak mı size? Neler var kırkıncı odada? Otuzdokuz odadan yapılmış hayatınızı, kırkıncı odanın kapısını açmamak için yalandan mı yaşıyorsunuz? Niye yapıyorsunuz bunu? Açsanıza kırkıncı odayı yağmurlu bir gecede belki... Belki de hiç açmazsınız, kapalı bir odayla yaşarsınız bütün ömrünüzü, kendinizden sıkılarak...&lt;br /&gt;Ahmet Altan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115005213368134643?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115005213368134643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115005213368134643&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115005213368134643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115005213368134643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/kirkinci-oda.html' title='KIRKINCI ODA...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-115005178654300280</id><published>2006-06-11T21:48:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T22:11:20.810+03:00</updated><title type='text'>GİDEMEM ...</title><content type='html'>Bazen daha fazladır her şey&lt;br /&gt;Bi eşikten atlar insan&lt;br /&gt;Yüzüne bakmak istemez yaşamın&lt;br /&gt;O kadar azalmıştır ki anlam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O zaman git hemen radyoyu aç bi şarkı tut&lt;br /&gt;Ya da bi kitap oku mutlaka iyi geliyor&lt;br /&gt;Ya da balkona çık bağır bağırabildiğin kadar&lt;br /&gt;Zehir dışarı akmadan yürek yıkanmıyor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ama fazlada üzülme hayat bitiyor bir gün&lt;br /&gt;Öyle de böyle de ayrılıktan kaçılmıyor&lt;br /&gt;Hem çok zor hem de çok kısa bir macera ömür&lt;br /&gt;Ömür imtihanla geçiyor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben bu yüzden hiç kimseden gidemem gitmem&lt;br /&gt;Unutmam acı tatlı ne varsa hazinemdir&lt;br /&gt;Acının insana kattığı değeri bilirim küsemem&lt;br /&gt;Acıdan geçmeyen şarkılar biraz eksiktir&lt;br /&gt;Bi şiirden, bi sözden&lt;br /&gt;Bi melodiden, bi filmden&lt;br /&gt;Geçirip güzelleştirmeden dayanmak zor&lt;br /&gt;Yıldızların o ışıklı fırçası azıcık değmeden&lt;br /&gt;Bu şahane hüzün tablosu tamamlanmıyor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Söz - Müzik : Sezen Aksu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-115005178654300280?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/115005178654300280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=115005178654300280&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115005178654300280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/115005178654300280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/gidemem.html' title='GİDEMEM ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114996546190529878</id><published>2006-06-10T21:48:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T21:44:31.866+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bir Kadını Ağlatmak....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;Bir kadını ağlatmak çok zor değildir aslında. Kadınlar her şeye ağlayabilir; bir filme, bir şarkıya, bir yazıya... En az erkekler kadar yani! Ama bir kadını yürekten ağlatmak zordur. Eğer bir kadın yürekten ağlıyorsa, ağlatan onun yüreğine ulaşmış demektir. Ama o yüreğin değerini bilememiş olacak ki ağlatan, gözünü bile kırpmadan teker teker batırır iğnelerini yüreğe!Işte o zaman koca bir yumruk gelir oturur boğazına kadının. Yutkunamaz, nefes alamaz; çünkü o koca yumruk canını çok acıtır. Gözleri buğulanır kadının sonra. Ağlamayacağım, der içinden. Ama engel olamaz işte. Çünkü yüreğine ulaşmıştır birileri ve iğneler saplamaktadır.. Bu acıya ne kadar karşı koyabilir ki bir kadın. Ince ince süzülür yaşlar gözünden;önce birkaç damla, sonra bir yağmur seli... Ve kadın ağlar; hem de çok! Sanmayın ki gidene ağlar kadın! Gidenin giderken koparttığı yerdir, onu ağlatan, orada bıraktığı yaradır. O yaranın hiç kapanmayacağını,kapansa bile izinin kalacağını bilir kadın; o yüzden ağlar. Ama bilirmisiniz, ağlamak kadınları olgunlaştırır. Her damla, daha çok kadın yapar kadınları.Her damla bir derstir çünkü. Bazen kadınlar ağladığında çoğu insan, ağlama niye ağlıyorsun ki, değmez onun için derler. Bilmediklerindendir böyle demeleri. Çünkü yürekleri acıyan kadınlar ağlamazlarsa, ölürler. Içlerindeki zehirdir onları öldüren! Ağlayarak o zehirden kurtulurkadınlar, o irini temizlerler yaralarındaki! Çünkü bilirler, o irin temizlenmezse iltihaba dönüşür yaraları. Dönüşmemesi lazımdır oysa. O yüzden de bolca ağlarlar.Çok ağlayan kadınlar, bir çok şeyden vazgeçen kadınlardır aslında. Her damla olgunlaştırır kadınları evet ama olgunlaştıkça o safça inandıkları aşk gerçeği onların gözünde küçülür. Küçüldükçe değerini yitirir ve işte o zaman kendilerine sarılıp, yeni bir kadın yaratırlar kendilerinden. Güçlü, yenilmez, mağrur ve aşka inanmayan...Insanlar soruyorlar çoğu zaman neden bu kadar çok bekar kadın var diye; hepsi kariyer derdinde olan. Çünkü inançlarını yitirdi o kadınlar.Zamanında yüreklerine o kadar çok iğne saplandı ki, o kadar çok ağladılar ki! Artık kendilerinden başka bir doğru olmadığına inanıyorlar, o yüzden kendilerine sarılıyorlar. Çünkü biliyorlar ki sarıldıkları adamlar onları hak etmedi; hem de hiçbir zaman! Hep bir çıkarları oldu sarıldıkları adamların. E o zaman niye sarılsınlar ki! Niye sarılalım ki!&lt;br /&gt;Etrafınızda yürekten ağlayan bir kadın varsa bilin ki olgunlaşıyordur. Bilin ki, gerçekleri kabul etmeye başlamıştır. Bilin ki, artık aşkın olmadığına inanmıştır. Bilin ki, sarılacak tek bir doğrusu kalmıştır. O da kim, ne diye sormayın artık. Çok ağlayan kadınlar, eninde sonunda kendilerine sarılırlar çünkü!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Müzikte Değişik bir soluk için lütfen Mercan Dede'den "Nefes"i dinleyin ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mercandede.com/md/mdplayer/mp3player.html"&gt;http://www.mercandede.com/md/mdplayer/mp3player.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114996546190529878?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114996546190529878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114996546190529878&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114996546190529878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114996546190529878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/bir-kadn-alatmak.html' title='Bir Kadını Ağlatmak....'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114995999100252240</id><published>2006-06-10T20:17:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T20:19:51.476+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone By Edgar Allan Poe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/NVS4836.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/NVS4836.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From childhood's hour I have not been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As others were - I have not seen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As others saw - I could not bring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My passions from a common spring -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the same source I have not taken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sorrow - I could not awaken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart to joy at the same tone -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all I lov'd - I lov'd alone -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then - in my childhood - in the dawn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of a most stormy life - was drawn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From ev'ry depth of good and ill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mystery which binds me still -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the torrent, or the fountain -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the red cliff of the mountain -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the sun that 'round me roll'd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In its autumn tint of gold -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the lightning in the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it pass'd me flying by -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the thunder, and the storm -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the cloud that took the form&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(When the rest of Heaven was blue)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of a demon in my view - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114995999100252240?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114995999100252240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114995999100252240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114995999100252240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114995999100252240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/alone-by-edgar-allan-poe.html' title='Alone By Edgar Allan Poe'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114995940842337284</id><published>2006-06-10T20:08:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T11:26:01.883+03:00</updated><title type='text'>İstanbul İstanbul Olalı</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/val01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="215" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/val01.jpg" width="368" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Söz/Müzik: Sezen Aksu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uzanıp Kanlıca’nın orta yerinde bi taşa&lt;br /&gt;Gözümün yaşını yüzdürdüm Hisar’a doğru&lt;br /&gt;Yapacak hiçbir şey yok gitmek istedi gitti&lt;br /&gt;Hem anlıyorum hem çok acı tek taraflı bitti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bi lodos lazım şimdi bana, bi kürek, bi kayık&lt;br /&gt;Zulada birkaç şişe yakut yer gök kırmızı&lt;br /&gt;Söverim gelmişine geçmişine ayıpsa ayıp&lt;br /&gt;Düşer üstüme akşamdan kalma sabah yıldızı&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah İstanbul İstanbul olalı&lt;br /&gt;Hiç görmedi böyle keder&lt;br /&gt;Geberiyorum aşkından&lt;br /&gt;Kalmadı bende gururdan eser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İstanbul İstanbul olalı&lt;br /&gt;Hiç görmedi böyle keder&lt;br /&gt;Geberiyorum aşkından&lt;br /&gt;Kalmadı bende gururdan eser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne acı ne acı insan kendine ne kadar yenik&lt;br /&gt;Bulunmadı ihanetin ilacı yürek koca bir karadelik&lt;br /&gt;Yapacak hiçbir şey yok gönül bu sevdi&lt;br /&gt;Yeni bir ten yeni bir heyecan bilirim üstelik&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bi lodos lazım şimdi bana, bi kürek, bi kayık&lt;br /&gt;Zulada birkaç şişe yakut yer gök kırmızı&lt;br /&gt;Söverim gelmişine geçmişine ayıpsa ayıp&lt;br /&gt;Düşer üstüme akşamdan kalma sabah yıldızı&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah İstanbul İstanbul olalı&lt;br /&gt;Hiç görmedi böyle keder&lt;br /&gt;Geberiyorum aşkından&lt;br /&gt;Kalmadı bende gururdan eser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İstanbul İstanbul olalı&lt;br /&gt;Hiç görmedi böyle keder&lt;br /&gt;Geberiyorum aşkından&lt;br /&gt;Kalmadı bende gururdan eser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Düzenleme: Erdem Yörük&lt;br /&gt;Klasik Gitar, Akustik Gitar: Erdem Sökmen&lt;br /&gt;Bas Gitar, Perdesiz Gitar: Eylem Pelit&lt;br /&gt;Percussion: Cem Erman, Alpay Dinletir&lt;br /&gt;Ney: Eyüp Hamiş&lt;br /&gt;Ud: Hüseyin Bitmez&lt;br /&gt;Yaylılar: Gündem Yaylı Grubu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;Topkapı Sarayını görmek için lütfen aşağıdaki linke tıklayınız:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.360tr.com/topkapi/index.htm" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.360tr.com/topkapi/index.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114995940842337284?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114995940842337284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114995940842337284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114995940842337284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114995940842337284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/06/istanbul-istanbul-olal.html' title='İstanbul İstanbul Olalı'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114770223701372201</id><published>2006-05-15T17:07:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T16:35:36.563+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Travel Turkey,Turks And Luck Games</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/164.jpg" border="0" alt="LoTTo" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Playing the lottery is a favorite pastime among Turks. All Lotteries are under the monopoly of the State. Casinos once run in 5-star hotels were closed by the government three years ago. Most of them moved to Cyprus. Gambling tours to Cyprus are now arranged on weekends. Gamblers fly to Cyprus and meet with “green cloths” and “one-armed-monsters” thereby make great contributions to the country’s economy!!! &lt;br /&gt;The favorite lottery is Sayısal Loto because its prize is the largest. The Lottery is based on guessing 6 numbers out of 49 and the draw takes place on Saturday evenings. TRT1 broadcasts it live. You can pick up the Loto forms from buffets, National Lottery dealerships and newspaper sellers. Complete the card and deliver it any place you see the Loto sign. One column in the Sayısal Loto is 350.000 TL. You can find the results of the Loto in the Sunday newspapers or from the official site of Milli Piyango (National Lottery). See “Related Links” for details. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milli Piyango is the National Lottery and draws are on 9th, 19th and 29th of every month. There are three different ticket prices as full (tam), half (yarım) and quarter (çeyrek). The ticket prices increase for the drawings on special days, Bayrams and New Year. The hawkers wear caps on which Milli Piyango is written. Various buffets and newspaper sellers also provide tickets. For the results you can either check with the newspapers published the following day of the drawing or from the lists Milli Piyango vendors provide, or again from the official site of Milli Piyango.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another lottery is Şans Topu (Luck Ball). It consists of two parts. First of all you need to pick 5 numbers out of 34 and secondly 1 number out of 14. One column is 350.000 TL. The draw is every Wednesday and broadcasts live from TRT1. For the results you can again visit Milli Piyongo’s site or check the newspapers on the following day. Coupons can be obtained from Milli Piyango, newspaper sellers and buffets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kazı-Kazan (Scrap and Win) is a simple scratch-and-win lottery. Each card has 8 boxes. Scratch all 8 boxes in hopes of finding 3 matching boxes. If you uncover three matching boxes you win the amount printed in the matching squares. All Milli Piyango vendors provide it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114770223701372201?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114770223701372201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114770223701372201&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114770223701372201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114770223701372201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/05/lets-travel-turkeyturks-and-luck-games.html' title='Let&apos;s Travel Turkey,Turks And Luck Games'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114761561744353822</id><published>2006-05-14T16:42:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T17:06:57.856+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Travel Turkey...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.ustadershanesi.com/auth185-11-10-256-cclicense-twac/bayrak5454.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the most detailed subjects of nations pertain to its’ traditions, customs and habits. As the cradle of various cultures for centuries, Turkey exhibits a colorful array of customs. &lt;br /&gt;The information provided in this section is based to a large extent on interviews with family elders, who possess a deep understanding of tradition and cultural practices in Turkey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ADDRESSING &lt;br /&gt;When you settle in Turkey you are going to notice that people usually address eachother with their first names. Dont be surprised because people were mentioned with their first and their fathers name during the 700-year Ottoman Empire. Surname law is accepted in 1934 after the Republic of Turkey is establish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hanım is added to the first name while addressing to ladies while Bey is added to their first name when addressing to men. For example the lady whose name is Binnur Kandemir is called Binnur Hanım and the man whose name is Ali Parlar is called Ali Bey. Turks usually discriminate on this subject when speaking to foreigners and non-Moslems. Vaçe Muhtaryan is generally addressed as Bay Vaçe or Monsieur Vaçe or Michele Tengizman is addressed as Bayan Michele or Madame Michele. During business conferences or meetings people speak to each other Sayın followed by their surnames ignoring the gender (i.e. Defne Tesal is called Sayın Tesal)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes people are addressed by their professions. For example you can address a female lawyer as Avukat (literally lawyer) Hanım or a male doctor as Doktor Bey. You can call a male personnel on officical sites as Memur Bey, however it is not proper to call the female personnel as Memur Hanım. Any serviceman whether he is electrician, upholsterer or plumber is addressed as usta. The taxi, dolmuş and bus drivers can be addressed as Şoför Bey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The salesman in çarşıs and pazars usually address to customers with names used for relatives. They speak to young customers abla, abi and to middle-aged customers teyze or amca and to the older customers as anne, baba, nine or dede. This kind of addressing has nothing to do with establishing any family relationship but was made up just for addressing easiness…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BODY LANGUAGE &lt;br /&gt;Turks like to communicate with their hands and arms and they can surely compete with Italians on this matter. Even if you don’t know a word in Turkish it is possible for you to get along with a Turk. Bow your head for ‘yes’ and raise your head backwards for ‘No’. If you raise your shoulders and open your arms it means, “I don’t know”. In order to show that you trust him/her you can tap his/her shoulders. Moreover, Turks like kissing each other. It is customary to kiss each other's cheeks upon greeting and when leaving - men also do this, however it is presumed that there is some level of familiarity, otherwise, a simple handshake would suffice. &lt;br /&gt;Besides Turks generate strange sounds as “hııı” or “hı hı” for yes. They even make fun of with the “çık” sound they use for “No”. If you unite all your fingers and swing your hand up and down everybody will understand that you loved the meal. Above all if you close your eyes and make “mmmmm” sound they will even think you are a Turk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some hand signs considered impolite by Turks. The first one is to put your thumb between your index and middle finger while your hand is in a fist position. The other is the middle finger standing upright again when your hand is in a fist. They both symbolize the male sex organ and mean, “fuck you!”. Another sign is the meeting of your thumb and index finger forming a circle. While in most countries this means “Okay”, in Turkey it means homosexual and is considered a big insult, and has been the cause of more than one murder (!!!) among especially despot Turkish men. If you point to your head with your index finger it means “Are you an idiot?”, again if you put your index finger to your temple and move it like screwing it means “Are you crazy?”. While you are driving if you raise your hand and wave it about, it will indicate the car following yours, “What’s the matter?” and it is sure to anger most drivers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A note of caution: Foreigners would be well advised to avoid using any offensive hand signals or any motions that could possibly be construed as being rude, insulting or aggressive. Such acts could lead to serious consequences and even personal injury as wounded egos fueled by excessive testosterone will often seek what they perceive to be justice. Avoid meaningless confrontations - better to just walk away from trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food Habits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A family dinner &lt;br /&gt;Turkish breakfasts consists of cheese, olives, butter, jam, loaves of fresh bread and of course, the indispensable abundant flow of tea. The breakfast in rural areas and of the poor, is soup. To offer tea, made from “teabags”, to Turks who love to drink tea, is considered an insult. Turks prepare tea by brewing it in a teapot, preferably porcelain, over a kettle. They even order tea at Cafes. Tea is served in porcelain cups at the major hotels and cafes however Turks prefer to have their tea served in glass cups. Although instant coffee, which Turks call “Nescafe”, is quite common, nothing can take the place of a good cup of tea. You’ll be introduced to the “Tea Garden” concept here in Turkey. These are open-air gardens, usually located in places with stunning panoramic views. Tea gardens (çay bahçesi) also serve fruit juice and colas, sandwiches and “tost” (e.g. cheese toast, cheese and sausage toast). More traditional teas gardens serve their tea with a Semaver (a metal object of old Russian culture) and in some tea gardens you’ll even find nargile (hubble bubble water pipe) for smoking an array of fruit flavored tobacco. The tea gardens of Moda and Emirgan are popular choices among café goers. &lt;br /&gt;Vegetables have an important place in Turkish cuisine. They can either be cooked with olive oil and served cool or with butter/margarine and a little meat, and served hot. The star of the kitchen is a different sort of rice, called pilav (pilaf). A good pilaf is the proof of a housewife’s cooking skills. If you see a person eating bread with pilaf or macaroni, in any part of the world, you can be pretty sure he/she is a Turk. Bread is the indispensable part of every Turkish meal. It is eaten whether or not it is particularly suited to the meal. Besides bread, Turks drink water during their meals. Even if they are drinking alcoholic beverages it is a good idea to put a decanter full of water on the table. Potable water is distributed in several ways in Turkey, via large glass or plastic demijohns or sold in plastic or glass bottles. Moreover Turks drink water from the fountains found throughout parts of town (the water is clean and potable).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turkish coffee , enjoyed after meals and/or especially as a “morning coffee” around 11 o’clock by housewives, is served in small porcelain cups resembling espresso cups. It is served without sugar (sade), with some sugar (orta) or sweet (şekerli). In Turkey, there is a famous saying: "A cup of coffee commits one to forty years of friendship" – this shows just how special Turkish coffee is among Turks. In Turkey, it is a common practice to have your coffee grounds read, after you have finished. If you ask around, you are sure to find someone who purports to be a fortuneteller. You may be surprised by accuracy of the things this person tells you, when they don’t know anything about you or your life. A favorite statement here is: “Don’t believe fortune telling but don’t be left without fortune telling.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOME VISITS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turkish slippers, terlik &lt;br /&gt;In general shoes are taken off when entering a Turk’s home. In the larger cities and among the better to-do families, this is not always necessary however. It is usually the custom of small settlements and conservative families. In general Turks wear slippers at home. Housewives tend to compete with each other on cleanliness and will certainly not let you in with your shoes on. At any rate, in a country whose streets are disorderly and dirty, it makes good sense to leave your shoes at the door and slide into a pair of comfortable slippers. Almost all Turkish homes will have a pair of “guest slippers”, reserved just for visitors. And if the idea of wearing someone else’s shoes does not appeal to you, you can always tote along a pair of your own, which will not be considered out of the ordinary.&lt;br /&gt;Kissing the hands of older family members is an obligatory ceremony of Bayram. Some families get together at the house of the oldest family member and have a “Bayram meal” all together. The elders give candy or money to those youngsters kissing their hands. In the past, gold coins and money were given however unfortunately this habit has been essentially lost, due to financial reasons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Among Turks, kissing the hand of an elder and touching it to your forehead is a sign of respect shown to elders. Those in esteemed or reputable positions in society, and the elderly, enjoy having their hands kissed. For example, primary school teachers wait for their students to kiss their hands after graduation. This also is an indispensable custom practiced during Bayrams. The older members of the family give candies and some pocket money to the children who kissed their hands. If you are married to a Turk and visiting his family members you are expected to follow your husband in kissing hands. In some families the younger members do not smoke or cross their legs when together with the older members of the family. It will be easier for you if you discuss with your spouse what sort of customs and behavior you are expected to follow. (Worth thinking about: As you attempt to please others, be careful not to lose your own identity and uniqueness). Kissing hands of ladies in a French manner is not a common habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turks are very generous and can be rather insistent when offering food in particular. It is best to just accept what is offered to you, with a smile, even though you may be full. If you don’t accept, you will undoubtedly hear comments like “Didn’t you like it?” or “Was it bad?”, and you even risk offending your host. If it is your second, third, or fourth helping, at some point you are bound to be genuinely full and you are not obliged to “clean your plate”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MILITARY&amp;ARMY&lt;br /&gt;If you hear horns from a convoy of cars, and the cars are decked with Turkish flags, you can be sure it is a “farewell ceremony” for a youngster who is headed of to complete his military service. Sometimes these ceremonies accompanied by drums and horns. &lt;br /&gt;For those not enrolled in any post-secondary education, military service is mandatory at the age of 20. Females are exempt from military service. Military service is a very important period in a Turkish man’s life. Military service is considered the final stage in a young mans education and he is deemed not to really have experienced “life” until he completes his military service. Most companies look for personnel who have completed their military service. Marriages are postponed until after this important right of passage. Turkish males without higher education must serve 15 months as private soldiers. Graduates of higher education are subject to complete their military service either in 6 months as private soldiers or in 12 months as reserve officers. Legal action is taken against those who do not register at the recruiting office, and they may be forbidden to travel abroad. Please note: males with dual nationality should be very careful and know their rights and obligations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a country with 65% of its population under 25 years of age, the number of youngsters serving in the military at any given time is very high. From time to time in order to decrease the accumulation of men, “short term military service” options are provided. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turks who have been living and working abroad for more than 3 years are granted to be exempted from the military service by having 21 days long symbolic military training. Paid military service is decided by law therefore it is not possible to form conjectures on the time or whether there will be such an option. For more information please visit the website of Ministry of Defense given below at External Link section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Army is held in high regard by the majority of Turks. Atatürk, the founder of modern Turkey, and a graduate of a military school, added considerably to the positive feeling felt throughout the country towards soldiers. Important government changes in the Turkish Republic (founded in 1923), were made by the army’s interference in the existing governments of 1960 and 1980. The Great Assembly was abolished, a new Constitution was prepared by a committee of experts, and elections took place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relations with Relatives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A family meeting &lt;br /&gt;There are times when it will seem as if everyone you meet is related somehow to one another. This is due to close marriage with relatives, but is a tradition that is changing and today prevalent particularly among rural and lower income families. Below is a list of names used to describe each relative, based on his/her position, in reference to your own. Foreigners often find it shocking to learn how many names there are for Aunt and Uncle!! &lt;br /&gt;The core family: anne (mother), baba (father), kız çocuk (daughter), erkek çocuk (son), ağabey (older brother), abla (older sister).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The relatives on the mother’s side are anneanne (grandmoth er), dede (grandfather), teyze (aunt - mother’s sister), enişte (teyze’s husband), dayı (uncle - mother’s brother), yenge (dayı’s wife), yeğen (sister’s and brother’s child) and kuzen (teyze’s and dayı’s children).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The relatives on the father’s side are babaanne (grandmother), büyükbaba (grandfather), hala (aunt - father’s sister), enişte (hala’s husband), amca (uncle – father’s brother), yenge (amca’s wife), yeğen (sister’s and brother’s child), kuzen (hala’s and amca’s children).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elti (two brothers’ wives to each other), baldız (the wife’s sister), bacanak (two sisters’ husbands to each other), kayınço (kayınbirader) (the wife’s brother), görümce (the husband’s sister) kayınvalide or kaynana (mother-in-law), kayınpeder or kaynata (father in law) are the relatives you have by marriage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the close friends of the family called teyze and amca by the children; like Jane teyze, Richard amca. Moreover it is common to hear some sellers addressing you as amca, teyze, abla, abi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPECIAL TASTES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As fast food chains conquest the world, Turks still have delicious and traditional alternatives for hamburgers and cola! &lt;br /&gt;Turkish cuisine boasts the variety of drinks and food not usually found in other countries and which we prefer to call “special tastes” or “simple pleasures”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tried to describe them in subtitles as food, beverage and sweets but strongly recommend you to try. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rakı &amp; Meyhane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/raki.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/raki.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently fake bottles of Yeni Raki were in the market. Unfortunately the fake raki causes serious damages resulting to death. Now the manufacturer put into market Yeni Raki with golden crown cap instead of old silver caps. We strongly recommend you not to drink raki from already opened bottles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rakı, the national alcoholic drink of Turks has a high degree alcohol and should not be consumed quickly. Most people drink it by mixing it with water. Colorless rakı turns milky white when mixed with water. Mindful drinkers fill 1/3 of their glass with rakı then add water and finally ice. Ice is never put in the glass first. If rakı is met with ice before water, it crystallizes and the taste changes. Some people drink rakı straight. In addition the rakı should be cold. One sip rakı, one sip water – it softens this strong drink. Deniz Gürsoy who wrote a very nice book on rakı is among the defenders that believe that for each sip of rakı, one should have 3.5 sips of water. Rakı goes well with and often inspires good conversation. It is customary to eat meze (various foods served in small plates) while drinking rakı. &lt;br /&gt;Here are some guidelines to observe when drinking rakı: First, wait until everyone has been served their rakı, then join in the toast all together. Try not to raise your glass higher than the rest. Never drink rakı with other liquors – it does not mix well and you may indeed find yourself feeling ill or suffering a terrible hangover the next day. Rakı is not a one-shot-liquor as vodka or tequila..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a saying in Turkish that goes something like this: “If you want to know a person, either travel with them or go and drink rakı with them”. Use good judgment when choosing whom to drink rakı with as it is quickly intoxicating. When you sit down at a Meyhane, you will first order your drinks and then a waiter will most likely bring a large tray of meze to the table and you can pick and choose which ones you would like. Don’t forget to order some butter with toasted bread as eating them will help you tolerate the alcohol. Usually, main course dishes follow the hot mezes. If you are not sure what to order, look around at the nearby table and point to something you find appealing. If you happen to sit at a table that is already loaded with mezes, send back the ones that you do not want (without touching them of course) so as not to be charged for them on bill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a good idea to finish your meze before ordering any main course as you may very well find that you are full and satisfied with just the meze. If you are ordering fish, go lightly on the meze or you will be too full to enjoy its delicate flavor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often there are musical groups performing which will roam throughout the restaurant. If you do not want them to visit your table, tell the owner or manager immediately. If they do come to your table and play for you it is customary to give a tip. You need only tip one of them, but make the tip visible for all to see, so that they don’t keep standing there playing and coercing you into giving even yet another tip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114761561744353822?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114761561744353822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114761561744353822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114761561744353822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114761561744353822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/05/lets-travel-turkey.html' title='Let&apos;s Travel Turkey...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114657227646584643</id><published>2006-05-02T15:13:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T15:23:07.500+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Kent Işıkları</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/4371458-lg.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="Kent ışıkları" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/4371458-lg.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ustadershanesi.com/kentisiklari.rar"&gt;Bilgisayarınıza indirin&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/dwnl_arrow.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114657227646584643?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114657227646584643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114657227646584643&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114657227646584643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114657227646584643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/05/kent-iklar.html' title='Kent Işıkları'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114647394464224777</id><published>2006-05-01T11:50:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T11:59:18.736+03:00</updated><title type='text'>R.E.M. ::  Everybody Hurts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/4346567-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/4346567-lg.jpg" border="0" alt="Navid Tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone, &lt;br /&gt;When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life, well hang on &lt;br /&gt;Don’t let yourself go, everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes everything is wrong. now it’s time to sing along &lt;br /&gt;When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on) &lt;br /&gt;If you feel like letting go, (hold on) &lt;br /&gt;When you think you’ve had too much of this life, well hang on &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;’cause everybody hurts. take comfort in your friends &lt;br /&gt;Everybody hurts. don’t throw your hand. oh, no. don’t throw your hand &lt;br /&gt;If you feel like you’re alone, no, no, no, you are not alone &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’re on your own in this life, the days and nights are long, &lt;br /&gt;When you think you’ve had too much of this life to hang on &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, everybody hurts sometimes, &lt;br /&gt;Everybody cries. and everybody hurts sometimes &lt;br /&gt;And everybody hurts sometimes. so, hold on, hold on &lt;br /&gt;Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on &lt;br /&gt;Everybody hurts. you are not alone &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danceage.com/player_mp3_4/1797.php?track_id=16&amp;id=1797" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.danceage.com/images-v4/buttons/play_24.gif" border="0" alt="Navid Tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114647394464224777?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114647394464224777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114647394464224777&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114647394464224777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114647394464224777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/05/rem-everybody-hurts.html' title='R.E.M. ::  Everybody Hurts'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114570467654476813</id><published>2006-04-22T14:10:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T14:27:49.263+03:00</updated><title type='text'>DAHA FAZLA YABANCI "ÖLMEK" İSTEMİYORUM SANA</title><content type='html'>İyilikten, saflıktan ulaşamadım kendime burada… Burası durmadan hızlanan bir kent. Burada sonsuz arzu çarpışır. Sonsuz acı… Sonsuz hırs…&lt;br /&gt;En başlarda ne istedim tam bilmiyorum. Ama öyle açık ve duruydu ki gördüğüm herşey, nereye ve kime baksam beni kendisine inandırıyordu. Henüz içimde bir başkası yoktu. İçimde benden ayrı, bana karşı bir ses yoktu. Gidemediğim yerleri mutlu özlerdim, çünkü gitmesem bile bilirdim ki oraları da benden bir parçaydı.&lt;br /&gt;Çok az ve usulca konuşulurdu.&lt;br /&gt;Çünkü sessizlik vardı ve ve bu sessizlikte en küçük sesler bile çabucak yayılırdı heryere. Sessizlik kutsaldı, çünkü bütün sesleri o saklardı koynunda.&lt;br /&gt;Evlerin önünde küçük bahçeler vardı. Geceleri ışıl ışıl yanan küçük düş ağaçları vardı. Herşey bizim için yaratılmıştı sanki, göründüğü gibi olan ruhumuza göre. Geceler gündüzlere usulca sokulurdu. Yavaştı herşey. Çok yavaş…&lt;br /&gt;Kutsal ve sonsuz bir aynaydı gökyüzü. Kendisine içtenlikle ve sabırla bakanların ismini sayıklardı…&lt;br /&gt;O zaman da vardı kötülük ve şiddet… O zaman da vardı yalan ve sevgisizlik… Ama yavaş dönerdi dünya. Garip, kutsal bir sessizlik vardı heryerde. Utanırdı kötüler yaptıklarından. Pişmanlık duyulurdu her yalandan sonra. Sanki mecbur kalındığı için sevgisizdi insanlar.&lt;br /&gt;Top oynardık mezarlıklarda. Ölüler dünyanın en sevecen insanlarıydılar. Hayatı onlar sevdirirdi bize. Aynı güneşin altına uzanırdık birlikte.&lt;br /&gt;O zaman bir tek kalbim vardı benim. Gözlerim bana aitti nereye gitsem. İçimde kendi sesimden başka hiçbir ses yoktu.&lt;br /&gt;Hayatın o dinmeyen ağrısıyla hatırlardım kendimi. Susar dinlerdim. O ağrıyı incitmemeye çalışırdım. Kaçmazdım ondan. Bilirdim ki istesem de kaçamam ondan. Güneşin doğuşu ya da batışına nasıl saygı duyuyorsam ona da öyle derin bir saygı duyardım…&lt;br /&gt;Toprak, içimde sakladığım halde ulaşamadığım sevgiliydi… Kendimle değil, toprağın sırrıyla yarışırdım. Kendimden değil, toprağın sırrından ürkerdim… Bu ürküntüyle barışmak için sık sık toprağa yüz sürerdim. Koklardım onu. Çıplak bir hazla yürürdüm üzerinde. Kalbimin üzerinde yürür gibi…&lt;br /&gt;Sonra sular geliyor aklıma. Aktıkça yüzün gibi aydınlanan sular. İlk orada hatırlıyorum seni. İçimde henüz başka bir ses yokken. Kalbim ve gözlerim sadece bana aitken…&lt;br /&gt;O suların peşinde, hayatımın peşinde, yüzünün peşinde…&lt;br /&gt;İlk orada akıp giden sularda seninle kendimi gördüm. En çok sende sevdim kendimi. Akıp giden sularda. İlk kez sende gördüm özlemlerimi… Akıp giden kalbimi… O parçalanmış ve sadece sana ait benliğimi ilk kez sende gördüm…&lt;br /&gt;O yavaşça dönen dünyayı, bütün sesleri içinde saklayan o kutsal sessizliği… Kendisine sabırla ve içtenlikle bakanın adını sayıklayan o sonsuz gökyüzünü… Gökyüzünün el verdiği o küçük düş bahçelerini…&lt;br /&gt;Toprakla sular arasındaydı kalbim. Bu yakınlıkta ne varsa, bu sır nereye varacaksa görmek isterdim. Çünkü öyle inanırdım ki kendime, nereye baksam seni görürdüm. Toprakla sular arasında giderek aydınlanan yüzünü.&lt;br /&gt;Dalgaların aydınlığı vururdu terkedilmiş evlere. Bir kapı açılır, içeri üşümüş bir ışık girerdi. Dışarıda bir sonsuzluk kimsesiz yanardı. Bir ceset vururdu sahile, ömrüm olurdu yorgun ve ıslak saçları… Sen olurdun yüzünü saklayan herkes… Sonra… Sonra biterdi toprak… Akmaz olurdu sular. Kirlenirdi o kutsal sessizlik… Düş ağaçları kesilirdi… Seni bekleyecek yer bırakmazlardı bana… Sürüklerdi beni peşinden hızlanan dünya, bu durmadan hızlanan kent… Sürüklerdi beni kalbimden ayrılan ikinci kalp, sürüklerdi beni gözümden ayrılan ikinci göz… Ruhumdan ayrılan öbür ruh, sürüklerdi beni…&lt;br /&gt;Artık bu kent o kent değil, bu kalp o kalp değil, bu gözler o gözler değil… Seni sevdiğine inandığım o insan bu insan değil…&lt;br /&gt;Burada gidilecek hiçbir yer yok. İnsan en fazla o öbür, o yalancı kalbine çarpıyor… Burada insan en fazla o sahte gözünü hissediyor içi acıyarak… Ne kadar sevse de dünyanın bütün sevgisizliğini üzerine alıyor burada insan… Hep başkalarının sahte yasını tutuyor…&lt;br /&gt;Burada her sabah, her akşam insan yeniden, hep yeniden başlıyor hayatına. Sanki hiç yaşanmamış gibi, hiç gidilmemiş gibi, hiç ders alınmamış gibi… Burada insanın yalan yüzü değil, o en derinde sakladığı kalbi kararıyor önce…&lt;br /&gt;Artık burası herhangi bir kent: Kalabalık, doyumsuz, aceleci, konuşkan, acımasız, telaşlı unutkan, intikam dolu ve hep kaybetmiş… Burada sistem, kirletilmiş arzularla içimize, beynimize sızıyor, o “kurtarılmış beyin hücrelerimize”. İşte sevgiyi, yitirdiğimiz ve özlediğimiz aşkımızı, işte en derinde yatan insanlığımızı aradığımız yer burası…&lt;br /&gt;İşte seni aradığım yer burası: Herşey satılık burada, herşey ambalajlı. Sevgi, umut, ütopya, başkaldırı, inanç, ölüm, farklı hayatlar… Herşey, herşey satılık burada.. Burada herşeyin bir fiyatı var… Burası durmadan hızlanan bir kent… Aşk bile burada serbest piyasa kurallarına bağlı… Sahte bir kalple peşinden koştuğum bu dünya seni bana anlatmaz, artık biliyorum…&lt;br /&gt;Burası benim önümden koşan bir kent… Burada ikinci kalbimle, ikinci gözümle, ikinci benliğimle yarışıyorum. Burada kendimle amansız kavgalıyım…&lt;br /&gt;Seni sevdiğim kadar sevmedim bu hayatı, inan… Ne olur bir tek buna inan…&lt;br /&gt;Çünkü sende gökyüzüm var. sende sonsuz yağmurlarım, kutsal sessizliklerim var… Sende o küçük düş ağaçlarım var… Affet bu küçük insanlığımı… Affet peşinden geldiğim bu kenti… Affet o derin doyumsuzluğumu…&lt;br /&gt;Göremedim affet, sen bu kentte denizden çıkan bir cesettin. O yorgun ve ıslak saçları ömrüm olan bir ceset… Affet beni… Gidilecek başka bir yer yokmuş bu kentte… Toprakla akan su arasındaki yüzünden başka… İşte bunu öğrettin bana… O sessiz, o kutsal yüzünle bana bunu öğrettin. Bu kentte aşk olamayacağını… Beni kendine çağırdın. Akşamın o ıstıraplı eşiğine…&lt;br /&gt;Son bir umutla sana sarılıyorum sevgili. Dünya nereye giderse gitsin, bir tek sen kaldın bu kentte, birtek sen kaldın içimdeki iyilik yüzünden utandırmayan beni…&lt;br /&gt;Ben bu dünyadan kaçtım ve gidecek başka yerim yok…&lt;br /&gt;Burası içimi kanatarak hızlanan bir kent…&lt;br /&gt;Bir yanım ölü, bir yanım sen…&lt;br /&gt;Sevgiliysen tanı beni, bil öyleyse…&lt;br /&gt;Dediğin gibi sevgili, daha fazla yabancı ölmek istemiyorum sana….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114570467654476813?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114570467654476813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114570467654476813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114570467654476813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114570467654476813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/04/daha-fazla-yabanci-lmek-istemiyorum.html' title='DAHA FAZLA YABANCI &quot;ÖLMEK&quot; İSTEMİYORUM SANA'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-114287077168564224</id><published>2006-03-20T18:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T18:21:41.966+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Persian New Year,نوروزتان همیشگی</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/66378249DaBTKL_ph.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/66378249DaBTKL_ph.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;یا مقلب القلوب و الابصار&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Oh Reformer of Hearts and Minds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;یا مدبر اللیل و النهار&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Director of day and night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;یا محول الحول و الاحوال&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Transformer of conditions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;حول حالنا الی احسن الحال&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Change ours to the best in accordance to your will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;این آغازی دیگر است و این منم، گمشده در مه، ستاره ای سرگردان در کهکشانی بی انتها، فرورفته در قعر اقیانوسی عمیق و تاریک. من گم شده ام، من در دنیای متروک تنهایی خود که تاریک ترین شب ها و ابری ترین روزها را دارد و باد زیر آوار غروب&lt;br /&gt;کوچه هایش را دلتنگ&lt;br /&gt;می نوازد گم شده ام. آری من گم شده ام&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;بهاري ديگر مي رسد و روز ايراني نو مي شود در مقدم بهار. گل هاي سرخ شيراز مي شکوفند و باد عطر بهار نارنج را بر سرزمين اهورائي ما مي گسترند&lt;br /&gt;بر سر سفره هفت سین یاد آنها که دور از یار و دیار به خلوت خود چون شمع می سوزند و می سازند باشیم&lt;br /&gt;بهار می رسد، دلتان خوش ، کامتان شیرین ،روزگارتان سبز&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-114287077168564224?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/114287077168564224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=114287077168564224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114287077168564224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/114287077168564224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/03/happy-persian-new-year.html' title='Happy Persian New Year,نوروزتان همیشگی'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113887881664160586</id><published>2006-02-02T13:08:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T13:13:36.956+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Anlamıyorum !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Blade.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Blade.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dedim ya anlamıyorum&lt;br /&gt;Kimin haklı olduğunu&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum bunları düşünmemin gerekliliğini&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum canımın sıkkın oluşunu&lt;br /&gt;Hiçbir şeyi anlamayan, kabul etmeyen bir ifadeyle karşındakilere bakmayı&lt;br /&gt;Hiç kimseye bakmak istememeyi, baksam da gözlerimi kaçırıp, yere bakmayı&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum dinlediğim müziği,&lt;br /&gt;daha önce severek dinlediğim bir müziği sinirlenip kapatmayı,&lt;br /&gt;sonra sessizlikten sıkılıp tekrar açmayı, tekrar kapatmayı&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum saatlerce aynı parçayı dinlemeyi&lt;br /&gt;Sürekli sıkılıp, bunalıp farklı bir şeyler yapmak istemeyi, yeni uğraşlar aramayı&lt;br /&gt;Yapacak yeni şeyler bulup ta bunların saçma şeyler olmasına karar vermemi&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum kendimden bu kadar uzaklaşmamı, kendimi tanıyamayıp hayretle izlemeyi&lt;br /&gt;Aynanın karşısına geçip saatlerce kendimle göz göze gelmemi&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum cadde kenarına oturup gelene geçene bakıp, hiç kimsede hoşlanılacak bir yan bulamamamı&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum bir satır yazı bile okuyamamamı, karaladığım saçma sapan şekilleri neden yaptığımı, aslında ne demek istediğimi&lt;br /&gt;Hiçbir şeyi beğenmeyişimi&lt;br /&gt;Her zaman yaptığım, sıklıkla yaptığım davranışları gereksiz bulmayı&lt;br /&gt;Durup dururken gözlerimin doluşunu&lt;br /&gt;Kalabalıktan, her şeyden uzaklaşmak isteyişimi&lt;br /&gt;Aklıma takıp ta hiçbir işe bakamamayı,&lt;br /&gt;nefes alamayışımı&lt;br /&gt;Camın kenarına oturup saatlerce en uzağa bakmayı&lt;br /&gt;Kimseyle görüşmemek isteyişimi, mecburi görüşmelerde “canın mı sıkkın” denmesini&lt;br /&gt;Yatıp uyumak istemeyi. Uyuma kararı alıp ta düşünmekten uykumun kaçmasını, uyuyamamayı&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum bu susmaları, yalnız kalmak isteyişimi&lt;br /&gt;Sabrımı anlamıyorum bazen….&lt;br /&gt;Çözüm arayıp ta bulamamamı, sinirlenip bir halt yememi&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyorum&lt;br /&gt;En ihtiyacım olduğu zaman beni kimsenin aramamasını&lt;br /&gt;Kimsenin sesini duymak istemediğimde özellikle sevmediklerimin bana ulaşma çabasını&lt;br /&gt;Bir noktaya odaklanıp saatlerce oraya bakmayı&lt;br /&gt;Aslında oraya bakmadığımı daha doğrusu orayı görmediğimi&lt;br /&gt;Ve bu kadar süreyi bakıp ta görmediğim noktaya ayırmamı&lt;br /&gt;Boşa vakit geçirmemi bazen . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113887881664160586?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113887881664160586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113887881664160586&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113887881664160586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113887881664160586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/02/anlamyorum.html' title='Anlamıyorum !!!'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113779055306747762</id><published>2006-01-20T22:45:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T22:55:53.706+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Will you send me an angel ?!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/bridge.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/bridge.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi - www.tabriziweb.com" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wise man said just walk this way&lt;br /&gt;To the dawn of the light&lt;br /&gt;The wind will blow into your face&lt;br /&gt;As the years pass you by&lt;br /&gt;Hear this voice from deep inside&lt;br /&gt;It's the call of your heart&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes and your will find&lt;br /&gt;The passage out of the dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;Will you send me an angel&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;In the land of the morning star&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/metro.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/metro.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi - www.tabriziweb.com" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wise man said just find your place&lt;br /&gt;In the eye of the storm&lt;br /&gt;Seek the roses along the way&lt;br /&gt;Just beware of the thorns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;Will you send me an angel&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;In the land of the morning star&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wise man said just raise your hand&lt;br /&gt;And reach out for the spell&lt;br /&gt;Find the door to the promised land&lt;br /&gt;Just believe in yourself&lt;br /&gt;Hear this voice from deep inside&lt;br /&gt;It's the call of your heart&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes and your will find&lt;br /&gt;The way out of the dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;Will you send me an angel&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;In the land of the morning star&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;Will you send me an angel&lt;br /&gt;Here I am&lt;br /&gt;In the land of the morning star&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danceage.com/player_mp3_4/625.php?track_id=3" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.danceage.com/images-v4/buttons/play_24.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113779055306747762?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113779055306747762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113779055306747762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113779055306747762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113779055306747762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/01/will-you-send-me-angel.html' title='Will you send me an angel ?!!'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113778929875200743</id><published>2006-01-20T22:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T22:34:59.146+02:00</updated><title type='text'>م.آزاد هم رفت</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/4036621-md.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/4036621-md.jpg" border="0" alt="Tabrizi web art center - navid tabrizi - www.tabriziweb.com" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;چنگ اگر بود سرودي بود&lt;br /&gt; جام اگر بود شرابي بود&lt;br /&gt; كوي اگر بود نگاري بود&lt;br /&gt; مي اگر بود خرابي بود&lt;br /&gt; چنگ در چنگل اهريمن&lt;br /&gt;جام در خيمه عياران&lt;br /&gt; كوي جولانگه شبگردان&lt;br /&gt;باده در بزم تبهكاران&lt;br /&gt;ديده بي خوابيست&lt;br /&gt; چنگ خاموشيست&lt;br /&gt;رنگ بيرنگيست&lt;br /&gt; عقل مدهوشيست&lt;br /&gt;مهر اگر بود درودي بود&lt;br /&gt;چنگ اگر بود سرودي بود&lt;br /&gt;مثل گريز دور كبوترها&lt;br /&gt; در منتهاي نيلي بي فرياد&lt;br /&gt; انديشه مي كنيم&lt;br /&gt; در ژرفناي بهتي بي نام&lt;br /&gt; و شادمانه ناگاه&lt;br /&gt;احساس مي كنيم&lt;br /&gt; يك انفجار روشن را در باغ&lt;br /&gt;وقت طلوه سبز چكاوك ها&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113778929875200743?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113778929875200743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113778929875200743&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113778929875200743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113778929875200743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/01/blog-post.html' title='م.آزاد هم رفت'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113653520765946668</id><published>2006-01-06T09:56:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T17:58:11.073+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Gerİ DöNEmEm</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/train-jaune_02.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/train-jaune_02.jpg" alt="Tabrizi Web Art Center" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;              Anlayamıyorum onları&lt;br /&gt;  kimisi hayal dünyasından çık diyor&lt;br /&gt;  kimisi beni başkalarına anlatıyor&lt;br /&gt;  acaba gerceğe dönsemmi diye düşünüyorum&lt;br /&gt;  ama gerçeğin acı olduğunu her dönmek istediğimde daha cok tadıyorum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  kandırma kendini bosuna aldatma&lt;br /&gt;  senden yoksun bir dünyayı ne eyleyim ben anla&lt;br /&gt;  cıkamam dünyamdan burda kötülük yok&lt;br /&gt;  cocuk ruhuma bosu bosuna aldanma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  kendin görmeye çalıs  az da olsa bil beni&lt;br /&gt;  belki o zaman anlarsın ne gölgelerle gittiğimi&lt;br /&gt;  ne ulaşılmaz şeyleri kendime yol çizdiğimi&lt;br /&gt;  ve bu kadar çileyi neden çektiğimi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  sanılmasın ki bundan birşey olmaz&lt;br /&gt;  gün gelir başınız yere bakar&lt;br /&gt;  gün gelir pişmanlıklar duyar&lt;br /&gt;  bir günde gelir mezarıma baş koyarsınız...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Misafir Yazar : Onur Usta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113653520765946668?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113653520765946668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113653520765946668&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113653520765946668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113653520765946668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2006/01/geri-dnemem.html' title='Gerİ DöNEmEm'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113605685993738045</id><published>2005-12-31T21:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T21:25:34.670+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Güle güle 2005 , Hoşgeldin 2006</title><content type='html'>Yine yeni bir yıl var kapımızda. 2006 yılına girecegimiz şu günlerde istediğiniz her şeyin gerçekleşmesi dilegiyle. Geleceğinizi oluşturacak her yeni gün bir önceki günden daha güzel, isteklerinize uygun ve sizi mutlu edecek şekilde olsun! İyi Seneler!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/2663730-md.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: center; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="Tabrizi Web Art Center" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/2663730-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another new year is upon us. It seems like only a few months ago we were ringing in 2005 and now we are ushering it out making way for 2006. Each year at this time I like to take a few moments to reflect on the past year and look ahead to the future. Since this year marks the half way point of the decade I thought I started looking back at the last few years . . .&lt;a name="more"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113605685993738045?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113605685993738045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113605685993738045&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113605685993738045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113605685993738045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/12/gle-gle-2005-hogeldin-2006.html' title='Güle güle 2005 , Hoşgeldin 2006'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113575803397645858</id><published>2005-12-28T10:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-12-28T10:20:38.106+02:00</updated><title type='text'>:: Gelavera Deresi ::</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/alone.gif" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/alone.jpg" alt="navid tabrizi,Tabrizi Web Art Center" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koy verdun gittun beni oy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Koy verdun gittun beni&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Allahundan bulasun oy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Allahundan bulasun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Kimse almasun seni&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Kimse almasun seni&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yine bana kalasun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sevduğum senin aşkun ciğerlerumi dağlar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiçmi düşunmedun sen sevduğun boyle ağlar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Gelavera deresi &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;İki dağun arasi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Yüzundan silinmesun&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Biçağumun yarasi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sevduğum senun aşkun ciğerlerumi dağlar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Hiçmi düşunmedun sen sevduğun boyle ağlar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113575803397645858?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113575803397645858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113575803397645858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113575803397645858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113575803397645858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/12/gelavera-deresi.html' title=':: Gelavera Deresi ::'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113544194523390218</id><published>2005-12-24T18:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T18:35:06.603+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Benim bir sevgilim var henüz tanışmadığım !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/masooma.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="navid tabrizi - Tabrizi Web Art Center" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/masooma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;benim çakıl taşlarım var irili ufaklı &lt;br /&gt;kaybolduğumda yere yayıp yol yaptığım &lt;br /&gt;çakıl taşlarım var her yerden topladığım &lt;br /&gt;boşluğa düştüğümde oyunlar yaratıp oynadığım &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;benim bir sözlüğüm var unutulmuş bir dil &lt;br /&gt;oysa ki içinde her şeyin anlamı gizli &lt;br /&gt;benim bir gözlüğüm var sol camı kırıldı &lt;br /&gt;taktığım zamanlarda içini gösteren adeta &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sen hiç “hiç” oldun mu, birden duruldun mu? &lt;br /&gt;bulanıkmış berrakmış her suyu içtin mi? &lt;br /&gt;altında ağ olmadan yerden yükseldin mi? &lt;br /&gt;tam zevkine varmışken birden yere düştün mü sen? &lt;br /&gt;düştün mü sen? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;benim hiç boyanmamış dört duvarım var &lt;br /&gt;çatlaklarından sızıp içinden geçtiğim &lt;br /&gt;benim hiç yıkılmamış duvarlarım var &lt;br /&gt;dikkatle baktığımda ardını gördüğüm adeta &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sen hiç “hiç” oldun mu birden duruldun mu? &lt;br /&gt;bulanıkmış berrakmış her suyu içtin mi? &lt;br /&gt;altında ağ olmadan yerden yükseldin mi? &lt;br /&gt;tam zevkine varmışken birden yere düştün mü sen? &lt;br /&gt;düştün mü sen? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;benim bir hikayem var sonunu yazmadığım &lt;br /&gt;benim bir sevgilim var henüz tanışmadığım &lt;br /&gt;benim umudum var benim umudum &lt;br /&gt;benim umudum var benim umudum &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sen hiç “hiç” oldun mu birden duruldun mu? &lt;br /&gt;bulanıkmış berrakmış her suyu içtin mi? &lt;br /&gt;altında ağ olmadan yerden yükseldin mi? &lt;br /&gt;tam zevkine varmışken birden yere düştün mü sen? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hiç oldun mu birden duruldun mu? &lt;br /&gt;bulanıkmış berrakmış her suyu içtin mi? &lt;br /&gt;altında ağ olmadan yerden yükseldin mi? &lt;br /&gt;tam zevkine varmışken birden yere düştün mü sen? &lt;br /&gt;düştün mü sen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113544194523390218?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113544194523390218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113544194523390218&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113544194523390218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113544194523390218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/12/benim-bir-sevgilim-var-henz-tanmadm.html' title='Benim bir sevgilim var henüz tanışmadığım !!!'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113523738734807481</id><published>2005-12-22T09:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T09:47:17.280+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobody's Home !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;couldn't tell you why she felt that way,&lt;br /&gt;She felt it everyday.&lt;br /&gt;And I couldn't help her,&lt;br /&gt;I just watched her make the same mistakes again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's wrong, what's wrong now?&lt;br /&gt;Too many, too many problems.&lt;br /&gt;Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.&lt;br /&gt;She wants to go home, but nobody's home.&lt;br /&gt;I's where she lies, broken inside.&lt;br /&gt;With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Broken inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/a5b9.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="float:center; margin:1 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/a5b9.jpg" border="0" alt="Tabrizi web art center" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open your eyes and look outside, find a reasons why.&lt;br /&gt;You've been rejected, and now you can't find what you left behind.&lt;br /&gt;Be strong, be strong now.&lt;br /&gt;Too many, too many problems.&lt;br /&gt;Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.&lt;br /&gt;She wants to go home, but nobody's home.&lt;br /&gt;It's where she lies, broken inside.&lt;br /&gt;With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Broken inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her feelings she hides.&lt;br /&gt;Her dreams she can't find.&lt;br /&gt;She's losing her mind.&lt;br /&gt;She's fallen behind.&lt;br /&gt;She can't find her place.&lt;br /&gt;She's losing her faith.&lt;br /&gt;She's fallen from grace.&lt;br /&gt;She's all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah,oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wants to go home, but nobody's home.&lt;br /&gt;It's where she lies, broken inside.&lt;br /&gt;With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Broken inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh yeah&lt;br /&gt;She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danceage.com/player_mp3_4/395.php?track_id=7" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="tabrizi web art center" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/play_24.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danceage.com/listen/mp3_direct.php?aid=395&amp;amp;q=lo&amp;amp;atype=1"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="tabrizi web art center" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/play_32.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danceage.com/listen/mp3_direct.php?aid=395&amp;amp;q=hi&amp;amp;atype=1"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="tabrizi web art center" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/play_128.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113523738734807481?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113523738734807481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113523738734807481&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113523738734807481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113523738734807481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/12/nobodys-home.html' title='Nobody&apos;s Home !'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113440633737595145</id><published>2005-12-12T18:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T18:52:17.626+02:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3943765-md.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3943765-md.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İçimde bir ezgi var... &lt;br /&gt;Kaç ay oldu dinliyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Kimse duymuyor... &lt;br /&gt;Ben sadece içimden söyleyebiliyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Bilinsin istemiyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Bir Ekim akşamının aldatan sıcaklığını hatırlatıyor bana...&lt;br /&gt;Karanlığı...&lt;br /&gt;Kayıkların kenarındaki mutlu ayyaşları... &lt;br /&gt;Daracık bir sokağı... &lt;br /&gt;Bir yanımın hep "sahte" olduğunu...&lt;br /&gt;Yokuşu...&lt;br /&gt;Çözümsüzlüğü...&lt;br /&gt;Çözümsüzlüğe rağmen vazgeçememeyi... &lt;br /&gt;Kati bir ayrılığı kabullenemeyişi...&lt;br /&gt;Uyurken damla damla terleyen tenini seyretmeyi...&lt;br /&gt;Belli belirsiz dokunabilme sevincini...&lt;br /&gt;Daha ne saysam?..&lt;br /&gt;Ne desem?..&lt;br /&gt;Söylenecek her şeyi söyledim sanki...&lt;br /&gt;Yazacak hiç bir O'nlu cümlem kalmadı...&lt;br /&gt;Bitti diyorum bitti... &lt;br /&gt;Düşünme... Hadiiii...&lt;br /&gt;Yok...&lt;br /&gt;Olmuyor...&lt;br /&gt;Geçme diyorum evinin önünden...&lt;br /&gt;Ne değişecek?..&lt;br /&gt;Apartmanının dış kapısına bakıp gözlerim dolacak kadar mı zayıfladım ben?..&lt;br /&gt;Hayır...&lt;br /&gt;O ezgi...&lt;br /&gt;Dağıtıyor beni...&lt;br /&gt;Bakarken, duyarken, içerken, susarken...&lt;br /&gt;Hep o ezgi...&lt;br /&gt;Biraz keman... Biraz piyano...&lt;br /&gt;Hafif çığlıklar...&lt;br /&gt;İsyan...&lt;br /&gt;Nasıl desem?..&lt;br /&gt;Diyemem ki... &lt;br /&gt;Diyebilsem...&lt;br /&gt;Offfffff!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113440633737595145?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113440633737595145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113440633737595145&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113440633737595145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113440633737595145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/12/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113374499177160590</id><published>2005-12-05T02:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T18:58:29.080+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ölüm,ölüm dediğin nedir ki?ben senin için yaşamayi göze almışım ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/2419195-md.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/2419195-md.jpg" border="0" alt="ali tabrizi - tabrizi web art center" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yalnız ve sonsuz donuk bir yolda, ilerliyorum &lt;br /&gt;Üşüyorum, üzülmüyorum &lt;br /&gt;Soğukluklar bir gün biter diyorum &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cansız ve bomboş donuk bir dünya, içerliyorum &lt;br /&gt;Kaçıyorum, kaçamıyorum &lt;br /&gt;Soğukluklar bir gün biter diyorum &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne, nerde, ne zaman biter, nasıl sonu &lt;br /&gt;Yoruldum yalnız gitmekten bu sonsuz yolu &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issız bir yolda, umutlarımla, ilerliyorum &lt;br /&gt;Bekliyorum, bekleniyorum &lt;br /&gt;Bu yolculuk bitsin, yeter diyorum&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113374499177160590?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113374499177160590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113374499177160590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113374499177160590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113374499177160590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/12/lmlm-dediin-nedir-kiben-senin-iin.html' title='ölüm,ölüm dediğin nedir ki?ben senin için yaşamayi göze almışım ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113300504132835896</id><published>2005-11-26T13:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T13:37:21.763+02:00</updated><title type='text'>::- Hoşçakal Türkiye  -::</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3181505-md.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3181505-md.jpg" border="0" alt="Tabrizi Web Art Center" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zaman sadece birazcık zaman &lt;br /&gt;Geçici bu öfke, bu hırs, bu intikam &lt;br /&gt;Acılarımız tarih kadar eski &lt;br /&gt;Nefes almak misali olağan &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zaman sadece birazcık zaman &lt;br /&gt;Son bulduğu yerde sevgiler bir tek an &lt;br /&gt;Böyle benzer izler etrafında &lt;br /&gt;Alışkanlıklarımız bile sıradan &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gidiyorum bütün aşklar yüreğimde &lt;br /&gt;Gidiyorum kokun hâlâ üzerimde &lt;br /&gt;Sana korkular bıraktım bir de yeni başlangıçlar &lt;br /&gt;Bir kendim bir ben gidiyorum &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zaman sadece birazcık zaman &lt;br /&gt;Kızgınlığım yalnızlıktan korktuğumdan &lt;br /&gt;Bilirsin karanlıktan da ürkerim çocuklar gibi &lt;br /&gt;Işıkları yakarım hep bu korkudan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113300504132835896?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113300504132835896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113300504132835896&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113300504132835896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113300504132835896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/hoakal-trkiye.html' title='::- Hoşçakal Türkiye  -::'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113276347580809811</id><published>2005-11-23T18:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T18:31:15.810+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dönence !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/eiMummyEye1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="Tabrizi Web Art Center" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/eiMummyEye1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gün çoktan döndü buralarda&lt;br /&gt;Ve ben simsiyah bir gecenin koynunda&lt;br /&gt;Yapayanlız bekliyorum&lt;br /&gt;Duyuyorum, görüyorum bir gün&lt;br /&gt;Gelecek dönence biliyorum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simsiyah gecenin koynundayım&lt;br /&gt;Yapayanlız uzaklarda bir yerlerde&lt;br /&gt;Güneşler doğuyor&lt;br /&gt;Kupkuru bir ağacın dalıyım&lt;br /&gt;Yapayalnız&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uzaklarda bir yerlerde&lt;br /&gt;Birşeyler kök salıyor&lt;br /&gt;Çatlamış dudağımda ne bir ses ne bir nefes&lt;br /&gt;Uzaklarda bir yerlerde&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113276347580809811?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113276347580809811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113276347580809811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113276347580809811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113276347580809811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/dnence.html' title='Dönence !'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113276230604369058</id><published>2005-11-23T18:05:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T18:11:46.043+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3825989-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3825989-lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben kuşlardan da küçüktüm, bir gece vaktiydi&lt;br /&gt;Aşk tutttu elimden benim&lt;br /&gt;Geçtim düşler sokağından, bir gece vaktiydi&lt;br /&gt;Ceplerimde hacı yatmazlar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaç mevsim aşk pazarında geçti yalanlarla&lt;br /&gt;Düş sattım aldanmışlara&lt;br /&gt;Aklım kaçıverdi elimden bir gece vaktiydi&lt;br /&gt;Sevdiğim başka sevenim başka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yağmur yağsa, uykum kaçsa&lt;br /&gt;Bir kuş konsa badi parmağıma&lt;br /&gt;Ağlardım bir başıma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sevdadandır, sevdadandır&lt;br /&gt;'Sevdadandır' dedi annem, 'aldırma'&lt;br /&gt;'Aldırma, gel yanıma!' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113276230604369058?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113276230604369058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113276230604369058&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113276230604369058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113276230604369058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/ben-kulardan-da-kktm-bir-gece-vaktiydi.html' title=''/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113276168227287720</id><published>2005-11-23T17:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T18:01:22.293+02:00</updated><title type='text'>:: Düş Sokağı Sakinleri ::</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3793605-lg.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="Tabrizi Web Art Center" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3793605-lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senin alev gözlerin&lt;br /&gt;Eritse şu ruhumu&lt;br /&gt;Buz olur kesilirim&lt;br /&gt;Yanarken içim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sesin bir uçurum&lt;br /&gt;Çağırırsa beni&lt;br /&gt;Kuş olur uçarım&lt;br /&gt;Yanarken içim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sevdan bir ateş oldu bende&lt;br /&gt;Gönlüm bir deli coştu sende&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saçların rüzgarından&lt;br /&gt;Savururken gönlümü&lt;br /&gt;Sürgün olur göçerim&lt;br /&gt;Bu diyarlardan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kime dokunur ellerim&lt;br /&gt;Kimi görür gözlerim&lt;br /&gt;Ölüm çıkar karşıma&lt;br /&gt;Yine sen derim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sevdan bir ateş oldu bende&lt;br /&gt;Gönlüm bir deli coştu sende&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113276168227287720?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113276168227287720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113276168227287720&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113276168227287720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113276168227287720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/d-soka-sakinleri.html' title=':: Düş Sokağı Sakinleri ::'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113249920126022490</id><published>2005-11-20T16:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T00:48:24.726+02:00</updated><title type='text'>305 - YAMAN - OOIOO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Resim%288%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Resim%288%29.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Resim%2872%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Resim%2872%29.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Resim%2894%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Resim%2894%29.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Resim%28145%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Resim%28145%29.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Resim%28121%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Resim%28121%29.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Foto%2828%29.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Foto%2828%29.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113249920126022490?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113249920126022490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113249920126022490&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113249920126022490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113249920126022490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/305-yaman-ooioo.html' title='305 - YAMAN - OOIOO'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113279089421580258</id><published>2005-11-20T01:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T02:14:41.170+02:00</updated><title type='text'>::fotoblog::</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/364/1613/1600/Goruntu%28048%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/364/1613/320/Goruntu%28048%29.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/364/1613/1600/Resim%2873%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/364/1613/320/Resim%2873%29.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/364/1613/1600/20112005(003).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="navid tabrizi" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/364/1613/320/20112005%28003%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/364/1613/1600/Resim(51).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="navid tabrizi" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/364/1613/320/Resim%2851%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113279089421580258?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113279089421580258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113279089421580258&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113279089421580258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113279089421580258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/fotoblog_20.html' title='::fotoblog::'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113249736087625735</id><published>2005-11-20T01:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T13:39:43.733+02:00</updated><title type='text'>::fotoblog::</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Goruntu%28044%29.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Goruntu%28044%29.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Goruntu%28024%29.0.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Goruntu%28024%29.0.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/12112005%28011%29.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/12112005%28011%29.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/03112005%28004%29.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/03112005%28004%29.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113249736087625735?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113249736087625735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113249736087625735&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113249736087625735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113249736087625735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/fotoblog.html' title='::fotoblog::'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113187332913184235</id><published>2005-11-13T10:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T11:18:35.596+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ölünce Sevemezsem Seni</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/06112005%28015%29.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/06112005%28015%29.jpg" border="0" alt="navid tabrizi" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toprağından dönsün yüzüm &lt;br /&gt;Ölünce sevemezsem seni &lt;br /&gt;Kan ağlasın iki gözüm &lt;br /&gt;Ölünce sevemezsem seni &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hak reahmetin görmeyim &lt;br /&gt;Gonca gülün dermeyim &lt;br /&gt;Muradıma ermeyim &lt;br /&gt;Ölünce sevemezsem seni &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yaşamak yıldızlarda &lt;br /&gt;Seninle olmak istiyorum &lt;br /&gt;Sevişmek hüner değil &lt;br /&gt;Yanında kalmak istiyorum &lt;br /&gt;Sevişmek hüner değil &lt;br /&gt;Yanında ölmek istiyorum &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben bu yerde ölsemde &lt;br /&gt;Ay yüzlüm yine elde &lt;br /&gt;Muhtaç olayım namerde &lt;br /&gt;Ölünce sevemezsem seni&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113187332913184235?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113187332913184235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113187332913184235&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113187332913184235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113187332913184235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/lnce-sevemezsem-seni.html' title='Ölünce Sevemezsem Seni'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113149937101115108</id><published>2005-11-09T03:19:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T03:49:51.006+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bu Yolculuk Ne Zaman Biter?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3858695-lg.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3858695-lg.jpg" border="0" alt="Tabrizi Web Art Center" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O şehrin yağmurlarının tümü ezberimde. Her anını boşluk bırakmadan, büyük harflerle, doyasıya yaşadığımızdan unutmamın imkanı yok. Yağmur sesi duymak için verdiğimiz savaşı kimselerin olmadığı yerlere giderek kazanır ve zaferimizi el ele, doyasıya ıslanarak kutlardık, nasıl unutulur? Sahi bana saatlerce sımsıkı sarılıp ne düşünüyordun? Kim bilir? Bu sorunun cevabını öyle merak ediyorum ki. Cevabı bulsam sen geleceksin, eminim buna. Sorunun keskinliği yüzünden şehri terk ettim. Nasıl oraya yağmur yağıyorsa buraya da aynısından yağıyor. Eksikliğini hissettiğim, sen, sorunun cevabı, o şehrin yalnızlığı kısaca sensizlik. Arada uzun yollar kaldı. Giderken, otobüsün camından dışarıyı izlemek sonuna kadar bahaneydi. Dışarıyı izlemek bahanesinin altında yine sen vardın.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daha çok gece yağan yağmuru ve geceyi seviyorduk. Arabaların farlarını asfalttan izlemeyi ve camdan aşağıya kayan yağmur tanesinin bize akıl vermesi hoşumuza gidiyordu. Halbuki sen yağmur damlasını dinlerken ben cama yansıyan yüzüne bakıyordum. Bunu cesaretimi toplayamadığımdan yapıyordum. Şöyle tam karşına geçip gözlerinin içine sıkılana kadar bakamadım, yüzüne söyleyecek çok lafım vardı. Duymak istersen hâlâ var. Herkese lafım var aslında, ama duymak şartıyla, benim dilimden. Benim dilimi anladığında senin dilinden konuşmamız an meselesi. Ağzımdan çıkan yalanların tamamı seninle daha iyiyi yaşamak içindi. Ve onlar abartısız, yalansız benim hayallerimdi, yalnız seninle yaşamak istediğim ve her gece hiç üşünmeden, hatta zevk alarak saatlerce kurduğum oyunlar. Bir çoğunu yaşadık seninle ve sonunda oyunumun ortaya çıkması beni yalancı yaptı. Ben yaşamak istediğimin planını yapmıştım. Yani standart olmayan, önceden belirlenmiş oyuna sende bir şeyler katsan fena mı olurdu? Ne kaybederdik, sen ne kazandın?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadece kaçamak, korkak bakışlarla izledim seni. Sen haklıydın ben korkağın tekiyim. Göz göze gelmenin nesinden korkulur ki? Her şeyi bir yana bırakıp sevişmemiz an meselesiydi. Bize her şeyi unutturan, her yağmurdan sonra şehrin üzerinde çıkan zarif bir gökkuşağı olmuştu, itiraf ediyorum. Yağmurla güneşin sınır çizgisi olan gökkuşağı bize örnekmiş. Bizim sınır çizgilerimize geldiğimizi anlatmaya çalışıyormuş meğer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İkimizin şehri aynı anda, farklı yollardan terk etmesi asla tesadüf olamaz. Aslında o şehirden sıkılmışız. Şimdi seninle bu şehirde yeniden başlamak vardı ama senin yüzüne bakabilen birini çoktan buldun sanırım. Bunun böyle olmasını sen istemedin biliyorum ama yine de şartlara baş kaldırabilirdin, bu zaten senin yapında var. Her nedense ayak uydurdun bu kez. Seni ben mi değiştirdim yoksa sen mi istedin onu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umarım hayat beni affeder ve kalbim hoş görür. Çünkü artık aşk mümkün değil bende. Çünkü sen yoksun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artık imla hatası yapmadan yazı yazabiliyorum, Ankarada bağıra bağıra konuşabiliyorum ve artık sevişmekten utanmıyorum, nedense? Önüme gelenle yatmak istiyorum. Ama sadece istekte kalıyor...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113149937101115108?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113149937101115108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113149937101115108&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113149937101115108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113149937101115108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/bu-yolculuk-ne-zaman-biter.html' title='Bu Yolculuk Ne Zaman Biter?'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113149771915425525</id><published>2005-11-09T02:53:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T02:55:19.156+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sen Benim Hiçbir Şeyimsin...</title><content type='html'>Basit düşünüyodu basit...&lt;br /&gt;Dümdüz...&lt;br /&gt;Her şeyin o kadar farkındaydı ki...&lt;br /&gt;O kadar akıllıydı ki...&lt;br /&gt;Belki de onu çekici yapan buydu...&lt;br /&gt;Adam dizlerine yatacaktı...&lt;br /&gt;Ve bunun için santim santim yaklaştı dizlerine...&lt;br /&gt;Sonra usulca koydu başını...&lt;br /&gt;Kadın sordu: Bunu yapmak için ne kadar düşündün?&lt;br /&gt;Ne kadar özel bi gözlemdi?&lt;br /&gt;Gerçekten düşünür yabancı adamlar...&lt;br /&gt;Öyle kolay koyulmaz baş dizlere...&lt;br /&gt;Güzeldi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Göründüğü gibiydi...&lt;br /&gt;Olduğu gibiydi...&lt;br /&gt;Basit...&lt;br /&gt;Sıradan...&lt;br /&gt;Hep yorulmuştu...&lt;br /&gt;Yormuşlardı...&lt;br /&gt;Annesi, babası...&lt;br /&gt;Dört bi yana dağılmış yakınları...&lt;br /&gt;Ve de illa ki, hayatına giren adamlar...&lt;br /&gt;Sordu yabancı adama: Benim hiç normal bi ilişkim olmıycak mı? Hep kavga... Bi ayrılık, bi sevda... Bi gitmeler, bi gelmeler...&lt;br /&gt;Yabancı yakınlaşıyodu kadına...&lt;br /&gt;Saçlarının kokusuna, gözlerine, benine, tenine, ellerine, yemeklerine...&lt;br /&gt;Mesafeler kalkıyodu...&lt;br /&gt;Kadın bazen çok içten, bazen çok tedirgindi...&lt;br /&gt;Sarılırken birden bırakıyo, bırakmışken aniden sarılıyodu...&lt;br /&gt;Güvenmiyodu besbelli...&lt;br /&gt;Bi şey eksikti...&lt;br /&gt;Adam salak değildi hissediyodu, ama ne?&lt;br /&gt;O gitmek istedi birden...&lt;br /&gt;Nereye gidiyodu?&lt;br /&gt;Soramadı adam...&lt;br /&gt;Eski alışkanlıklarına, kavgasına, belki de delice sevdasına... Vazgeçemediği, unutamadığı başka bi adama...&lt;br /&gt;Gitme, kal diyemedi...&lt;br /&gt;Gitti... Pencereden taksiye binene kadar seyretti...&lt;br /&gt;Sigara yaktı adam... Bi iki nefes çekip, sinirle söndürdü...&lt;br /&gt;Odaya gitti...&lt;br /&gt;Yatağı topladı... Yastığını kokladı... Bi ara ağlıycak gibi oldu...&lt;br /&gt;Vazgeçti...&lt;br /&gt;Onun elinin değdiği her şeye bi kez daha dokundu...&lt;br /&gt;Bardak, dondurma kasesi, sigara paketi, cd, çakmak, çerçeve, minder, mouse, çikolata vs...&lt;br /&gt;O da çıktı evden...&lt;br /&gt;Dalgın, perişan, derbeder, aptal, salak bi halde...&lt;br /&gt;Kadının sorusu aklına geldi...&lt;br /&gt;Biz birbirimizin neyiyiz?&lt;br /&gt;Sen benim kelebeğimsin demişti adam...&lt;br /&gt;Ardından gülüm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İkisinin de ömrü azdı...&lt;br /&gt;Sonra soruyu biraz değiştirdi adam...&lt;br /&gt;Soran sanki kadınmışçasına:&lt;br /&gt;Ben senin neyinim?&lt;br /&gt;Ve cevabı bi çırpıda verdi adam:&lt;br /&gt;Sen benim hiçbir şeyimsin, yazdıklarımdan çok daha öte... Hiçbir şeyim... Hiç!..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113149771915425525?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113149771915425525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113149771915425525&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113149771915425525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113149771915425525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/sen-benim-hibir-eyimsin.html' title='Sen Benim Hiçbir Şeyimsin...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-113095164895753200</id><published>2005-11-02T19:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T10:03:53.240+02:00</updated><title type='text'>امشب</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/Goruntu(050).jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/Goruntu%28050%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;از خانه بیرون می زنم اما کجا امشب !&lt;br /&gt;شاید تو می خواهی مرا در کوچه ها امشب&lt;br /&gt;پشت ستون سایه ها روی درخت شب&lt;br /&gt;می جویم اما نیستی در هیچ جا امشب&lt;br /&gt;می دانم آری نیستی اما نمی دانم&lt;br /&gt;بیهوده می گردم به دنبالت چرا امشب&lt;br /&gt;هر شب تو را بی جست و جو می یافتم اما&lt;br /&gt;نگذاشت بی خوابی بدست آرم تو را امشب&lt;br /&gt;هر شب صدای پای تو می آمد از هر چیز&lt;br /&gt;حتی ز برگی هم نمی آید صدا امشب&lt;br /&gt;ها ... سایه ای دیدم ! شبیه ات نیست اما ، حیف&lt;br /&gt;ای کاش می دیدم به چشمانم خطا امشب !&lt;br /&gt;امشب ز پشت ابرها بیرون نیامد ماه !&lt;br /&gt;بشکن قرق را ماه من ! بیرون بیا امشب&lt;br /&gt;گشتم تمام کوچه ها را یک نفس هم نیست&lt;br /&gt;شاید که بخشیدند دنیا را به ما امشب&lt;br /&gt;طاقت نمی آرم تو که می دانی از دیشب&lt;br /&gt;باید چه رنجی برده باشم بی تو تا امشب&lt;br /&gt;ای ماجرای شعر و شب های جنون&lt;br /&gt;آخر چگونه سر کنم بی ماجرا امشب&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-113095164895753200?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/113095164895753200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=113095164895753200&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113095164895753200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/113095164895753200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/11/blog-post.html' title='امشب'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112911535350523338</id><published>2005-10-12T14:07:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T14:09:13.510+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bana Aşk Borçlusun...</title><content type='html'>Adam genç kadına seslendi: Bana gözyaşı borcun var... Genç kadın sordu: Nasıl ödeyebilirim? Adam gözlerini kırptı: Hadi gülümse... Gülümsedi genç kadın. Adam cebinden mendilini çıkarıp, borcunu sildi. Ve mendilini özenle katlayıp, yine kalbinin üzerindeki iç cebine koydu. İki tane beyaz gül vardı genç kadının elinde. İkisi de bahar kokuyodu. Biri ilkbahar diğeri güz... Adam seslendi yine: Bana mutluluk borcun var... Genç kadın biraz mahcup, biraz şaşkın sordu: Nasıl ödememi istersin? Heyecanlandı adam: Hadi yat dizlerime... Genç kadın, bi kedi uysallığında yattı dizlerine usulca. Adam şefkatle saçlarını okşamaya başladı kadının. Saçları güneşe ve yağmurlara hasret, hiç yaşanmamış baharlara benziyodu... Çaresizliğini ördü sıra sıra... Sonra saçının her teline mutluluğun çığlıklarını bağladı adam... Yetmedi, gizli düğümler attı!.. Ağladı... Hava kararmak üzereydi, dışarda yağmur yağıyodu... Adam sürekli borç defterlerini kurcalıyodu. Genç kadının gözlerinin içine baktı: Bana yürek borcun var... Borcunun farkındaydı sanki genç kadın, şaşırmadı: Bunu nasıl ödeyebilirim? Adam kollarını uzattı: Hadi tut ellerimi... Gül kokusu sinmiş ellerini uzattı genç kadın. Elleri öyle sıcaktı ki, eriyiverdi borcu avuçlarının içinde... Genç kadın gidiyodu... Adam son kez seslendi: Bana can borcun var... Kadın irkildi: Can mı?.. Sigarasından derin bi nefes çekti adam: Evet, evet... Can borcun var, sensizlik öldürüyor beni... Sözler hoşuna gitmişti kadının: Peki bunu nasıl tahsil edeceksin? Adam biraz yaklaştı: Yum gözlerini... İkisi de yumdu gözlerini... Masumca bi öpücük kondurdu kadının titreyen, ince dudaklarına... Bu ne şimdi diyerek, çattı kaşlarını genç kadın. Adam pişmanlıkla mutluluk arasında gidip geldi, kekeledi: Hayat öpücüğüydü... Kısa bi sessizliğin ardından bu kez kadın öptü adamı şehvetle... Adam şaşırdı: Ya senin yaptığın neydi? Genç kadın kapıya yöneldi: Veda öpücüğüydü!.. Kalan borçlarına karşılık, yürek dolusu çaresizlik ve bi de beyaz gülleri masanın üzerine bırakıp gitti genç kadın. Adam koştu peşinden, gülleri geri verdi kadına: Ne olur iyi bak umut çiçeklerime solmasınlar. Genç kadın gülleri aldı: Merak etme gün aşırı sularım çiçeklerini... Adam sevindi: Güneşe, suya gerek yok; gülümse yeter. Kadın gözden kaybolurken haykırdı adam: UMUTLARIMI KEFİL YAPTIM... UNUTMA, BANA AŞK BORÇLUSUN AŞK!.. Haykırışı yağmura karıştı, kadın yağmuru hissetmeyen kalabalığa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112911535350523338?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112911535350523338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112911535350523338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112911535350523338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112911535350523338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/10/bana-ak-borlusun.html' title='Bana Aşk Borçlusun...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112908171628178662</id><published>2005-10-12T04:46:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T04:48:36.286+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Atilla İlhan Güle Güle...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/atillailhan12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/atillailhan12.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben sana mecburum bilemezsin&lt;br /&gt;Adını mıh gibi aklımda tutuyorum&lt;br /&gt;Büyüdükçe büyüyor gözlerin&lt;br /&gt;Ben sana mecburum bilemezsin&lt;br /&gt;İçimi seninle ısıtıyorum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ağaçlar sonbahara hazırlanıyor&lt;br /&gt;Bu şehir o eski istanbul mudur&lt;br /&gt;Karanlıkta bulutlar parçalanıyor&lt;br /&gt;Sokak lambaları birden yanıyor&lt;br /&gt;Kaldırımlarda yağmur kokusu&lt;br /&gt;Ben sana mecburum sen yoksun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sevişmek kimi zaman rezilce korkuludur&lt;br /&gt;İnsan bir akşamüstü ansızın yorulur&lt;br /&gt;Tutsak ustura ağzında yaşamaktan&lt;br /&gt;Kimi zaman ellerini kırar tutkusu&lt;br /&gt;Birkaç hayat çıkarır yaşamasından&lt;br /&gt;Hangi kapıyı çalsa kimi zaman&lt;br /&gt;Arkasında yalnızlığın hınzır uğultusu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fatih'te yoksul bir gramofon çalıyor&lt;br /&gt;Eski zamanlardan bir cuma çalıyor&lt;br /&gt;Durup köşe başında deliksiz dinlesem&lt;br /&gt;Sana kullanılmamış bir gök getirsem&lt;br /&gt;Haftalar ellerimde ufalanıyor&lt;br /&gt;Ne yapsam ne tutsam nereye gitsem&lt;br /&gt;Ben sana mecburum sen yoksun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belki haziran'da mavi benekli çocuksun&lt;br /&gt;An seni bilmiyor kimseler bilmiyor&lt;br /&gt;Bir şilep sızıyor ıssız gözlerinden&lt;br /&gt;Belki yeşilköy'de uçağa biniyorsun&lt;br /&gt;Bütün ıslanmışsın tüylerin ürperiyor&lt;br /&gt;Belki körsün kırılmışsın telaş içindesin&lt;br /&gt;Kötü rüzgar saçlarını götürüyor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne vakit bir yaşamak düşünsem&lt;br /&gt;Bu kurtlar sofrasında belki zor&lt;br /&gt;Ayıpsız fakat ellerimizi kirletmeden&lt;br /&gt;Ne vakit bir yaşamak düşünsem&lt;br /&gt;Sus deyip adınla başlıyorum&lt;br /&gt;İçimsıra kımıldıyor gizli denizlerin&lt;br /&gt;Hayır başka türlü olmayacak&lt;br /&gt;Ben sana mecburum bilemezsin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112908171628178662?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112908171628178662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112908171628178662&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112908171628178662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112908171628178662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/10/atilla-ilhan-gle-gle.html' title='Atilla İlhan Güle Güle...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112903903036278479</id><published>2005-10-11T16:50:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T16:57:10.363+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/24229779_c63a316757_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/24229779_c63a316757_o.jpg" border="0" alt="tabrizi web art center" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away&lt;br /&gt;Now it looks as though they're here to stay&lt;br /&gt;Oh I believe in Yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be&lt;br /&gt;There's a shadow hanging over me&lt;br /&gt;Oh Yesterday came suddenly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why she had to go I don't know&lt;br /&gt;She wouldn't say&lt;br /&gt;I said something wrong now I long for yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday love was such an easy game to play&lt;br /&gt;Now I need a place to hide away&lt;br /&gt;Oh I believe in Yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why she had to go I don't know&lt;br /&gt;She wouldn't say&lt;br /&gt;I said something wrong now I long for yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday love was such an easy game to play&lt;br /&gt;Now I need a place to hide away&lt;br /&gt;Oh I believe in Yesterday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112903903036278479?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112903903036278479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112903903036278479&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112903903036278479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112903903036278479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/10/yesterday.html' title='Yesterday'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112846350272341404</id><published>2005-10-05T01:01:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T16:50:41.673+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Misafir Yazar : Can Sevinç</title><content type='html'>sen gittin gideli &lt;br /&gt;yüreğimdeki bu eksiklik, &lt;br /&gt;adını seslendiremediğim bu hüzün &lt;br /&gt;ömrümü çalıyor ömrümden bitanem &lt;br /&gt;darağacına gitmekten farksız sensizlik.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;zaman yetmiyor,günler yetmiyor &lt;br /&gt;yetmiyor geceler hayalinle sevişmelerime.... &lt;br /&gt;tenimde buram buram teninin kokusu &lt;br /&gt;dudaklarımda terinin tuzu.... &lt;br /&gt;böyle anlarda, &lt;br /&gt;yerim dizinin dibi oluyor &lt;br /&gt;oluyor ama yetmiyor zamanlar.... &lt;br /&gt;kana kana doyamıyorum sana &lt;br /&gt;darağacına gitmekten farksız sensizlik.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;şimdi,bana sorsalar &lt;br /&gt;temmuz bile üşüyor derim... &lt;br /&gt;çünkü dünyam soğuk &lt;br /&gt;ellerim soğuk..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bu gün biraz hırçınım &lt;br /&gt;bu gün biraz asi yüreğim.... &lt;br /&gt;bu yüzden tabakam boş &lt;br /&gt;bu yüzden içtiğim kahvenin &lt;br /&gt;haddi hesabı yok.... &lt;br /&gt;bu yüzden olmalı içimin sularında &lt;br /&gt;buz kalıpları parçalanıyor &lt;br /&gt;ve ben üşüyorum... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bak...deli bir öfke burnumda, &lt;br /&gt;yudum yudum özlem soluyor.... &lt;br /&gt;özlemişim ayak sesini &lt;br /&gt;özlemişim bir bebe sessizliğinde &lt;br /&gt;uyumalarını göğsümde....... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bu gün biraz hırçınım &lt;br /&gt;biraz huysuz ve haylaz... &lt;br /&gt;bu gün vurgun yemiş balık gibi &lt;br /&gt;çırpınır durur yüreğim.... &lt;br /&gt;bu gün ben,bende değilim &lt;br /&gt;değilim sevdiceğim.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112846350272341404?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112846350272341404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112846350272341404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112846350272341404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112846350272341404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/10/misafir-yazar-can-sevin.html' title='Misafir Yazar : Can Sevinç'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112837393613004365</id><published>2005-10-04T00:07:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T00:22:53.683+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Geri dön ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3775282-md1.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3775282-md1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alışırım zannettiğim yokluğunda acılanmam &lt;br /&gt;Vazgeçmek zor senin o büyülü tuhaf sıcağından &lt;br /&gt;Dön demeye utanırım zavallı korkularımla &lt;br /&gt;Arkasına saklandığım gururumdan &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geri dön geri dön &lt;br /&gt;Ne olur geri dön &lt;br /&gt;Uzanıp tutuver elimi bir gün &lt;br /&gt;Utanır diyemem ne olur geri dön &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah olur da bir gün sen de özlersen &lt;br /&gt;Olur da bir gün gözlerimle buluşmayı istersen &lt;br /&gt;Uzanıp tutuver elimi bir gün &lt;br /&gt;Utanır diyemem ne olur geri dön &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her şey bana seni hatırlatır unutmak isterken &lt;br /&gt;Utanırım hep o acılı şarkılarla ağlarken &lt;br /&gt;Bazen bir dost ya da bir çiçekle evime gelirsin &lt;br /&gt;Her şey seni hatırlatır da yeniden&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112837393613004365?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112837393613004365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112837393613004365&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112837393613004365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112837393613004365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/10/geri-dn.html' title='Geri dön ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112837286587386210</id><published>2005-10-03T23:51:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T23:54:25.880+03:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3753846-md.jpg" target=_blank&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3753846-md.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ağlamak istiyorum,&lt;br /&gt;ağlayamıyorum.&lt;br /&gt;kızacaklar diye,&lt;br /&gt;niye ağladın diye soracaklar diye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anlatmak istiyorum&lt;br /&gt;anlatamıyorum&lt;br /&gt;utanıyorum&lt;br /&gt;çekiniyorum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aşkımı dile getirmek istiyorum&lt;br /&gt;aşkımı dile getiremiyorum&lt;br /&gt;tam anlatacakken&lt;br /&gt;sen...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112837286587386210?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112837286587386210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112837286587386210&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112837286587386210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112837286587386210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/10/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112775755653155829</id><published>2005-09-26T20:49:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T13:25:03.112+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3752114-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3752114-md.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sen hiç sabahın altısında sevdin mi?..&lt;br /&gt;Bir kaç saat önce soytarılık yaparken; eğlenceden, neşeden edindiğin maskeyi, aylar sonra göz yaşlarınla düşürdün mü?..&lt;br /&gt;Utandın mı kendinden?&lt;br /&gt;Sen hiç doğan bir günde, durmaksızın yağan yağmurdan çekindin mi?..&lt;br /&gt;Ve merak ettin mi, nereye gidiyor bunca göz yaşı, bunca yağmur?..&lt;br /&gt;Yaşanılan ne varsa sıraya giriyordu sanki...&lt;br /&gt;Söküp atsam...&lt;br /&gt;Her neredeyse deşip çıkarsam...&lt;br /&gt;Yoook... Yoook kalsın orda!..&lt;br /&gt;Unutmadan bu telaşı...&lt;br /&gt;Yağan yağmuru...&lt;br /&gt;Birikmiş anıları...&lt;br /&gt;Eve koşmalı...&lt;br /&gt;Sen hiç sabahın altısında kaleme kağıda sarılıp yazdın mı?..&lt;br /&gt;Uykunun en sıcak yerindeyken bir çoğu, belgeledin mi yalnızlığını...&lt;br /&gt;Yürümek geçti mi aklından sokaklarda?..&lt;br /&gt;Yağmur olmak istedin mi?..&lt;br /&gt;Kimse duymayacak nasıl olsa...&lt;br /&gt;Bağıra bağıra ağlamak düştü mü aklına?..&lt;br /&gt;Sen hiç sevdandan tiksindin mi?..&lt;br /&gt;Hayasızca umutlandığın için...&lt;br /&gt;Bittiğini kabullenemediğin için...&lt;br /&gt;Ve lanet ettin mi böylesine bir bahta?..&lt;br /&gt;Sen hiç şükretmenin keyfini ıska geçtin mi?..&lt;br /&gt;Uykuların zehir zıkkım oldu mu?..&lt;br /&gt;Sen hiç.............&lt;br /&gt;Hiç !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112775755653155829?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112775755653155829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112775755653155829&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112775755653155829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112775755653155829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/09/dorothy.html' title='Sen'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112775593176122781</id><published>2005-09-26T20:23:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T20:48:29.573+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Hayalet Sevgilim..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3743007-lg2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3743007-lg2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ceza mı bu?&lt;br /&gt;Çektiğim çile mi?&lt;br /&gt;Yıllardır tuttuğum nöbet bitmeyecek mi?&lt;br /&gt;Bir küçük kartanesi gibiyim avucunda eriyen.. Dön bebeğim..&lt;br /&gt;Gözyaşlarını görürsem erir kanatlarım..&lt;br /&gt;Uçamam rüyalarında yanına..&lt;br /&gt;Sonsuzluk senle başladı.. O küçük dünyamda..&lt;br /&gt;Unutma gittiğinde yarım kaldım..&lt;br /&gt;Çöllerdeyim yanıyorum..&lt;br /&gt;Kutuptayım üşüyorum..&lt;br /&gt;Ceza benim çekiyorum.. Ne olur dön..&lt;br /&gt;Uzanıyorum tutamıyorum..&lt;br /&gt;Özlüyorum ağlıyorum..&lt;br /&gt;Yasak mısın anlamıyorum.. Ne olur dön..&lt;br /&gt;Sevmesen de beni.. Özledim sesini.. Git desem de yine gitmesen..&lt;br /&gt;Yıllardır çektiğim bu hasret mi çile mi? Haram mısın bana bir bilsem..&lt;br /&gt;Bebeğim benim.. Hayalet sevgilim..&lt;br /&gt;Bebeğim benim.. Hayalet sevgilim..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112775593176122781?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112775593176122781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112775593176122781&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112775593176122781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112775593176122781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/09/hayalet-sevgilim.html' title='Hayalet Sevgilim..'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112698559430249281</id><published>2005-09-26T20:22:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T21:03:47.326+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bir Gece Vardı...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3733528-lg.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3733528-lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Peşine yıldızları takmış...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Beni sana getiren neşeyle...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Senin hiç görmediğin... Göremediğin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Hep evinin sokağında biten...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Olasılık hesaplarıyla dolu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gidebilirdin...&lt;br /&gt;Gelebilirdin...&lt;br /&gt;Gülebilirdin...&lt;br /&gt;Sevebilirdin...&lt;br /&gt;Öpebilirdin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Koynuna umutlar doldurmuş...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Karanlığına yaslanıp ağladığım...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Senin sarhoş olduğun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Ay'ın sarısını satın almış...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı;&lt;br /&gt;Seni benden çalmış...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir gece vardı...&lt;br /&gt;Yine var...&lt;br /&gt;Ama benim gecem değil!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gidebilirsin...&lt;br /&gt;Gelebilirsin...&lt;br /&gt;Gülebilirsin...&lt;br /&gt;Sevebilirsin...&lt;br /&gt;Öpebilirsin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bu gece benim değil... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112698559430249281?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112698559430249281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112698559430249281&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112698559430249281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112698559430249281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/09/bir-gece-vard.html' title='Bir Gece Vardı...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-109855216828301728</id><published>2005-09-24T20:59:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-09-24T21:15:08.840+03:00</updated><title type='text'>This is just for Dorothy!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;You spurn my natural emotions&lt;br /&gt;You make me feel like dirt&lt;br /&gt;And I’m hurt&lt;br /&gt;And if I start a commotion&lt;br /&gt;I run the risk of losing you&lt;br /&gt;And that’s worse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever fallen in love with someone&lt;br /&gt;Ever fallen in love&lt;br /&gt;In love with someone&lt;br /&gt;Ever fallen in love&lt;br /&gt;In love with someone&lt;br /&gt;You shouldn’t’ve fallen in love with&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danceage.com/artist/iplayer.php?albumid=440&amp;amp;trackid=1" target="_blank"&gt;So she said what's the problem baby&lt;br /&gt;What's the problem I don't know&lt;br /&gt;Well maybe I'm in love (love)&lt;br /&gt;Think about it every time&lt;br /&gt;I think about it&lt;br /&gt;Can't stop thinking 'bout it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much longer will it take to cure this&lt;br /&gt;Just to cure it cause I can't ignore it if it's love (love)&lt;br /&gt;Makes me wanna turn around and face me but I don't know nothing 'bout love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;Turn a little faster&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;The world will follow after&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;Cause everybody's after love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I said I'm a snowball running&lt;br /&gt;Running down into the spring that's coming all this love&lt;br /&gt;Melting under blue skies&lt;br /&gt;Belting out sunlight&lt;br /&gt;Shimmering love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well baby I surrender&lt;br /&gt;To the strawberry ice cream&lt;br /&gt;Never ever end of all this love&lt;br /&gt;Well I didn't mean to do it&lt;br /&gt;But there's no escaping your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These lines of lightning&lt;br /&gt;Mean we're never alone,&lt;br /&gt;Never alone, no, no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, Come on&lt;br /&gt;Move a little closer&lt;br /&gt;Come on, Come on&lt;br /&gt;I want to hear you whisper&lt;br /&gt;Come on, Come on&lt;br /&gt;Settle down inside my love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;Jump a little higher&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;If you feel a little lighter&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;We were once&lt;br /&gt;Upon a time in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're accidentally in love&lt;br /&gt;Accidentally in love (x7)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accidentally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm In Love, I'm in Love,&lt;br /&gt;I'm in Love, I'm in Love,&lt;br /&gt;I'm in Love, I'm in Love,&lt;br /&gt;Accidentally (X 2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;Spin a little tighter&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;And the world's a little brighter&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on&lt;br /&gt;Just get yourself inside her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love ...I'm in love &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-109855216828301728?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/109855216828301728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=109855216828301728&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/109855216828301728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/109855216828301728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/09/this-is-just-for-dorothy.html' title='This is just for Dorothy!!!'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112696131827490756</id><published>2005-09-17T15:40:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T22:28:57.913+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Geceye Seni Bağırdım... Duydun mu?..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/navid61.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/navid61.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasıl da çabucak bitiyor gün...&lt;br /&gt;Günler...&lt;br /&gt;Bir şey anlamadan...&lt;br /&gt;Hissetmeden...&lt;br /&gt;Uyanıyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Beyaz bir gün...&lt;br /&gt;Yatıyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Alacakaranlık...&lt;br /&gt;Sabah olsun diye uyuyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Yatayım diye geceyi bekliyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Dahası yok... Hep aynı...&lt;br /&gt;Ne istediğimi...&lt;br /&gt;Ne düşlediğimi...&lt;br /&gt;Neye küstüğümü ben de bilmiyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Ama küstüm...&lt;br /&gt;Fena küstüm...&lt;br /&gt;Beynimin içinde neler var?..&lt;br /&gt;Neden bu kadar yalınım?..&lt;br /&gt;Hiçbir türküye eşlik etmiyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Niçin?..&lt;br /&gt;Bilemiyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Bir anlık tebessümlerimi de yitirdim...&lt;br /&gt;Arkadaşlarım bir bir ana, baba oluyorlar...&lt;br /&gt;Ben artık bir “oğul” da istemiyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Adı “Ario” olacaktı oysa...&lt;br /&gt;Sımsıkı tutacaktı avuç içine ancak sığan parmağımı...&lt;br /&gt;Sen kokacaktı...&lt;br /&gt;Ben kokacaktı “Ario”...&lt;br /&gt;Yok...&lt;br /&gt;İstemiyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Yok...&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Hayat detaylarla dolu, ne de güzel bir şölendi...&lt;br /&gt;Hep böyle sürecekti sanki...&lt;br /&gt;Bitmeyecekti...&lt;br /&gt;Kalabalıktı...&lt;br /&gt;Renkliydi...&lt;br /&gt;Heyecan vardı...&lt;br /&gt;Pazar uykusu...&lt;br /&gt;Venedik Kafe...&lt;br /&gt;Deniz kenarı...&lt;br /&gt;Gülüşün...&lt;br /&gt;Yastıkta iki çukur...&lt;br /&gt;Aşk vardı...&lt;br /&gt;Sen vardın...&lt;br /&gt;Bitti...&lt;br /&gt;Şölen bitti...&lt;br /&gt;Şimdi sadece sabah ve gece oluyor...&lt;br /&gt;Bir aydınlık... Bir karanlık...&lt;br /&gt;Bir karanlık... Bir aydınlık...&lt;br /&gt;O kadar...&lt;br /&gt;Dün de, bugün de, yarın da aynı...&lt;br /&gt;Çarşamba ya da Perşembe...&lt;br /&gt;Salı veya Cuma...&lt;br /&gt;Ne değişir?..&lt;br /&gt;???...???&lt;br /&gt;Sıradan bir yalnızlık benimkisi...&lt;br /&gt;Kiminkinden farkı var?..&lt;br /&gt;Kelimelerden cümle kurma yeteneğim, benim yalnızlığımı sadece belgelenmiş bir “anı” yapar...&lt;br /&gt;Herkesinki gibi bir yalnızlık bu...&lt;br /&gt;Yangın yerinde hareket edememek gibi...&lt;br /&gt;Hiçbir teselliye boyun eğmeyen...&lt;br /&gt;Laftan, sözden anlamayan bir yalnızlık bu da...&lt;br /&gt;Asi...&lt;br /&gt;Onurlu...&lt;br /&gt;Ümitsiz...&lt;br /&gt;Hiç kimseninkinden farkı yok...&lt;br /&gt;Sabah ezanından hemen sonra...&lt;br /&gt;Durduk yere ...&lt;br /&gt;Ankara’nın tam ortasında, sesim kısılasıya geceye seni bağırmak...&lt;br /&gt;“O’nu seviyorum”u öfkeye dönüştürmek...&lt;br /&gt;Bu koca kente seni haykırmak...&lt;br /&gt;Dudaklarımın önce titremesi...&lt;br /&gt;Sonra gözlerimin dolması...&lt;br /&gt;En fazla ağlamak...&lt;br /&gt;Elimin ayağıma dolaşması...&lt;br /&gt;Salaklaşmak...&lt;br /&gt;Farklı mı yapar benim yalnızlığımı?..&lt;br /&gt;Duysaydın... Belki...&lt;br /&gt;Duymadın...&lt;br /&gt;Diğer yalnızlıklar gibi benimkisi de...&lt;br /&gt;Duyulmayan...&lt;br /&gt;Görülmeyen...&lt;br /&gt;Bilinmeyen...&lt;br /&gt;Umursanmayan...&lt;br /&gt;Sıradan bir yalnızlık...&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3735004-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3735004-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni özlediğimi anlamıyorum bazen...&lt;br /&gt;Hissetmiyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Belki de özlemiyorum...&lt;br /&gt;En çok kendime hasretim...&lt;br /&gt;İçime bu denli kaçmadığım...&lt;br /&gt;Pusmadığım...&lt;br /&gt;Mutluymuş gibi yapmadığım anlarımı özlüyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Seni uyandırmadan usulca sokulma planlarımı...&lt;br /&gt;Öylece uyuyuşunu seyretmeyi...&lt;br /&gt;Sokağında park edecek yer bulamamayı...&lt;br /&gt;“Bir aşağı sokak” ihtimalini özlüyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Sonbaharı özlüyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Sonbahar başlasa bir an evvel...&lt;br /&gt;Yetişebilsem...&lt;br /&gt;Yetiştirebilsem yalnızlığımı...&lt;br /&gt;İyi gelecek üşümek bana...&lt;br /&gt;İyi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112696131827490756?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112696131827490756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112696131827490756&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112696131827490756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112696131827490756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/09/geceye-seni-bardm-duydun-mu.html' title='Geceye Seni Bağırdım... Duydun mu?..'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112292620295082941</id><published>2005-09-17T14:50:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-09-25T20:17:46.333+03:00</updated><title type='text'>tanıtıM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben...&lt;br /&gt;İşte ben!..&lt;br /&gt;Daha ne olsun...&lt;br /&gt;Nasıl diyeyim sana?&lt;br /&gt;Nasıl anlatayım kendimi?..&lt;br /&gt;Pasaklıyım mesela...&lt;br /&gt;Dağınık...&lt;br /&gt;Hep dağınık...&lt;br /&gt;Beni dağıtacak sevdaları kolay bulmam bundan belki...&lt;br /&gt;Belki bundan iflah olmaz bir gönül adamıyım...&lt;br /&gt;Aşık oldu mu, en çok kendisinin aşık olduğunu düşünecek kadar çocuksu aptallıktayım...&lt;br /&gt;Dağınık...&lt;br /&gt;Ruhu... Beyni... Mekanı...&lt;br /&gt;Her yeri dağınık... Öyle biriyim...&lt;br /&gt;Yalancıyım...&lt;br /&gt;Kendimi kandırdıcak kadar yalancı...&lt;br /&gt;Hiç bir hayalim yok...&lt;br /&gt;Olmadı...&lt;br /&gt;Olmayacak da...&lt;br /&gt;Asabiyim...&lt;br /&gt;Sabırsızım...&lt;br /&gt;Ama en çok da dağınığım ben...&lt;br /&gt;Ruhu... Beyni... Mekanı...&lt;br /&gt;Her yeri dağınık... Öyle biriyim...&lt;br /&gt;Öylesine yaşıyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Öylesine...&lt;br /&gt;Öyle..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112292620295082941?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112292620295082941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112292620295082941&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112292620295082941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112292620295082941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/09/tantm.html' title='tanıtıM'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112695532417180655</id><published>2005-09-17T13:56:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T15:29:56.806+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tanrı unutmuş olsada . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/fall_stonepath05-WEB.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="Sonbahar. . ." src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/fall_stonepath05-WEB.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gün gelir rüzgar, fırtına olur&lt;br /&gt;Dertleri gönül kendisi arada bulur&lt;br /&gt;Her gülüş cevep, her cevap günah&lt;br /&gt;Olmuyor ne yapsan içinde kopar bir isyan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanrı unutmuş olsada&lt;br /&gt;Vur durma vur yüreğim vur&lt;br /&gt;Olan olmuş ne olur&lt;br /&gt;Hayata bir daha vur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gülümse ne olur&lt;br /&gt;Bu günler dün olur&lt;br /&gt;Hatıralarla yaşanmaz ki yazık olur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112695532417180655?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112695532417180655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112695532417180655&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112695532417180655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112695532417180655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/09/tanr-unutmu-olsada_112695532417180655.html' title='Tanrı unutmuş olsada . . .'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112740755637986883</id><published>2005-08-16T19:37:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T09:47:57.520+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Çok Uzaklarda ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3747867-md1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/3747867-md1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caddelerde rüzgar aklımda aşk var&lt;br /&gt;Geceyarısında eski yağmurlar&lt;br /&gt;Şarkı söylüyorlar sessiz usulca&lt;br /&gt;Özlediğim şimdi çok uzaklarda&lt;br /&gt;Deli dolu günler&lt;br /&gt;Hayat güzeldi&lt;br /&gt;Kahkahalarıyla günler geçerdi&lt;br /&gt;Ellerim uzanmaz dokunamamki&lt;br /&gt;Özlediğim şimdi çok uzaklarda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O da özlüyormuş, benim bir tanem&lt;br /&gt;Çok üşüyormuş ben olmayınca&lt;br /&gt;Öyle yazıyor son mektubunda&lt;br /&gt;O da özlüyormuş, benim bir tanem&lt;br /&gt;Hep ağlıyormuş ben olmayınca&lt;br /&gt;Öyle yazıyor son mektubunda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caddelerde rüzgar aklımda aşk var&lt;br /&gt;Geceyarısında eski yağmurlar&lt;br /&gt;Şarkı söylüyorlar sessiz usulca&lt;br /&gt;Özlediğim şimdi çok uzaklarda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O da özlüyormuş, benim bir tanem&lt;br /&gt;Çok üşüyormuş ben olmayınca&lt;br /&gt;Öyle yazıyor son mektubunda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caddelerde rüzgar aklımda aşk var&lt;br /&gt;Geceyarısında eski yağmurlar&lt;br /&gt;Şarkı söylüyorlar sessiz usulca&lt;br /&gt;Özlediğim şimdi çok uzaklarda &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112740755637986883?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112740755637986883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112740755637986883&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112740755637986883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112740755637986883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/08/ok-uzaklarda.html' title='Çok Uzaklarda ...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112163192934489401</id><published>2005-07-17T23:18:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T22:49:27.826+03:00</updated><title type='text'>:: It's Getting Dark In Here ::</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It's getting dark in here&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to leave&lt;br /&gt;Shadow's falling&lt;br /&gt;And I believe&lt;br /&gt;Winds picking up&lt;br /&gt;Thing's so unclear&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid of my shadow&lt;br /&gt;And it's getting dark in here&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared of strangers&lt;br /&gt;On the street&lt;br /&gt;World's so ugly&lt;br /&gt;I can't breath&lt;br /&gt;Moon's so spooky&lt;br /&gt;I'm close to tears&lt;br /&gt;I've lost it all&lt;br /&gt;And it's getting dark in here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the wait isn't worth what I'm getting&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel I'm on fire&lt;br /&gt;I've been handed a curse and a blessing&lt;br /&gt;My life's been stripped down to the wire&lt;br /&gt;And I'm trying to get back and hold on&lt;br /&gt;Find someone somewhere who cares&lt;br /&gt;But the sun's always setting on my life&lt;br /&gt;And it's sure getting dark in here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't talk about angels&lt;br /&gt;Or how I'll be saved&lt;br /&gt;I'm no coward&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not that brave&lt;br /&gt;Rags are blowing&lt;br /&gt;Rain's getting near&lt;br /&gt;I'm done with running&lt;br /&gt;And it's getting dark in here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the wait isn't worth what I'm getting&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel I'm on fire&lt;br /&gt;I've been handed a curse and a blessing&lt;br /&gt;My life's been stripped down to the wire&lt;br /&gt;And I'm trying to get back and hold on&lt;br /&gt;Find someone somewhere who cares&lt;br /&gt;But the sun's always setting on my life&lt;br /&gt;And it's sure getting dark in here&lt;br /&gt;And the wait isn't worth what I'm getting&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel I'm on fire&lt;br /&gt;I've been handed a curse and a blessing&lt;br /&gt;My life's been stripped down to the wire&lt;br /&gt;And I'm trying to get back and hold on&lt;br /&gt;Find someone somewhere who cares&lt;br /&gt;But the sun's always setting on my life&lt;br /&gt;And it's sure getting dark in here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, the sun's always setting on my life&lt;br /&gt;And it's sure getting dark in here &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112163192934489401?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112163192934489401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112163192934489401&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112163192934489401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112163192934489401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/07/its-getting-dark-in-here.html' title=':: It&apos;s Getting Dark In Here ::'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112128243529089421</id><published>2005-07-13T22:16:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T22:20:35.300+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/navid6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/navid6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uçsuz bucaksız bir çölün ortasındayım&lt;br /&gt;Dayanılır gibi değil çıkmazdayım&lt;br /&gt;Adım adım izimde yalnızlığım&lt;br /&gt;Reva mı hep kırık dökük sevdalarım&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah düşlerim berduş sevgilerim&lt;br /&gt;Kalmadı hiç mecaliniz&lt;br /&gt;Dargın ümitlerim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yanarım hep virane anılarım&lt;br /&gt;Bırakmadı yakamı yaslar&lt;br /&gt;Faydasız dualarım&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geç olmadan vazgeç bırak beni&lt;br /&gt;Ardına bile bakma git unut beni&lt;br /&gt;(Uzak dur yar kederimden unut beni)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unut beni&lt;br /&gt;Hüznüm yaralar seni dayanamazsın&lt;br /&gt;Unut beni&lt;br /&gt;Üşütür karanlığım alışamazsın&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duy feryadımı Tanrım dardayım&lt;br /&gt;Bu yol gidilir gibi değil çıkmazdayım&lt;br /&gt;Dayandı kapıma yine arsız yalnızlığım&lt;br /&gt;Reva mı hep boynu bükük sevdalarım&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112128243529089421?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112128243529089421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112128243529089421&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112128243529089421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112128243529089421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/07/usuz-bucaksz-bir-ln-ortasndaym-dayanlr.html' title=''/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112120046766804340</id><published>2005-07-12T23:31:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T23:36:09.870+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/navid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/320/navid.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Kişisel birşey değil bu&lt;br /&gt;Yaşamak zor buralarda&lt;br /&gt;Kimdendi bu yara diye&lt;br /&gt;Kalbine sorduğunda&lt;br /&gt;Gerçeği istiyorsan&lt;br /&gt;Diyeceklerimi unuttum&lt;br /&gt;Garip geliyor dostlar&lt;br /&gt;İz bırakmadan kaybolunca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bilirim geri gelmezler ama&lt;br /&gt;En güzel günleriydi onlar hayatımın&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bazen bir fısıltı çıkar&lt;br /&gt;Bağırmaya çalışınca&lt;br /&gt;Tek bir umut bile yokmu&lt;br /&gt;İnsan geçmişle yaşayınca&lt;br /&gt;Sonkez inan yalan olsada&lt;br /&gt;Bazen bir ruya yeter&lt;br /&gt;Kendimi kandırabilirim&lt;br /&gt;İkimizde görürsek eğer ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112120046766804340?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112120046766804340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112120046766804340&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112120046766804340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112120046766804340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/07/kiisel-birey-deil-bu-yaamak-zor.html' title=''/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-112102093741462932</id><published>2005-06-10T21:38:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T10:17:07.636+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Unut Beni !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/1600/3527959-md.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4130/607/200/3527959-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uyuyorum... uyuyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Günler çabuk geçsin diye...&lt;br /&gt;Kadehlere koyuyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Acımı dindirsin diye...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bekliyorum... bekliyorum...&lt;br /&gt;Bu sensizlik bitsin diye....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seni özlediğim kadar ...beni özlüyor musun...&lt;br /&gt;Sen de rüyalarında...beni görüyor musun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Öyle zor ki ayrı kalmak... öyle dayanılmaz ki...&lt;br /&gt;Unut beni sevgilim... ben unutmuyorum...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-112102093741462932?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/112102093741462932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=112102093741462932&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112102093741462932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/112102093741462932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/06/unut-beni.html' title='Unut Beni !!!'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-111749251371498205</id><published>2005-05-31T01:30:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-05-31T01:35:13.720+03:00</updated><title type='text'>به یاد پدرم</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;...اگر ميشد&lt;br /&gt;تو هم با من نماني برو بگذار برگردم&lt;br /&gt;دلم مي خواست ميشد با نگاهت قهر مي كردم&lt;br /&gt;برايت مي نويسم اسمان ابري است&lt;br /&gt;دلتنگم&lt;br /&gt;و من چندي است دارم با خودم با عشق مي جنگم&lt;br /&gt;اگر مي شد برايت مي نوشتم&lt;br /&gt;روزهايم را و سهم چشم هايم را سكوتم را صدايم را&lt;br /&gt;اگر ميشد براي ديدنت دل دل نمي كردم&lt;br /&gt;اگر ميشد كه افسار دلم را ول نمي كردم&lt;br /&gt;دلم را مي نشانم جاي يك دل تنگي ساده&lt;br /&gt;كنار اتفاقي كه شبي نا خوانده افتاده&lt;br /&gt;هميشه بت پرستم بت پرستي سخت وابسته&lt;br /&gt;خدايش را رها كرده به چشمان تو دل بسته&lt;br /&gt;تو هم حرفي بزن چيزي بگو هر چند تكراري&lt;br /&gt;بگو ايا هنوزم مثل سابق دوستم داري،؟&lt;br /&gt;خودم ميدانم از چشمانت افتادم&lt;br /&gt;ولي اينبار بيا و خورده هايم را ززير دست و پا بردار&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-111749251371498205?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/111749251371498205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=111749251371498205&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/111749251371498205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/111749251371498205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/05/blog-post.html' title='به یاد پدرم'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-111513468431097055</id><published>2005-05-03T18:14:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T18:38:04.313+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Spanish Ha!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img height="235" src="http://gallery.photo.net/photo/3324666-md.jpg" width="379" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dale, Dale Don Dale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dale&lt;br /&gt;Dale, Don, dale&lt;br /&gt;Pa' que se muevan la yales&lt;br /&gt;Pa' activar los anormales&lt;br /&gt;Y al que se resbale&lt;br /&gt;Boster dale, dale&lt;br /&gt;Dale, Don, dale&lt;br /&gt;Pa' que se muevan la yales&lt;br /&gt;Pa' activar los anormales&lt;br /&gt;Y al que se resbale&lt;br /&gt;(Boster, dale!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo la cogo maquina&lt;br /&gt;Pa' pillarla en una esquina&lt;br /&gt;Como ron, que fina&lt;br /&gt;Tremenda asesina&lt;br /&gt;Se peina y se guilla&lt;br /&gt;Se viste y se maquilla&lt;br /&gt;Traquila, chiquilla&lt;br /&gt;O te siento en mi silla&lt;br /&gt;Hoy tu vas a ser mia&lt;br /&gt;El Don te desafia&lt;br /&gt;Segura en mi via&lt;br /&gt;Cuidao si te tira&lt;br /&gt;Y si tu novio se activa&lt;br /&gt;Yo activo la guerilla&lt;br /&gt;Y si el Boster te lo pilla&lt;br /&gt;No le va a dar ni cosquilla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dale&lt;br /&gt;Dale, Don, dale&lt;br /&gt;Pa' que se muevan la yales&lt;br /&gt;Pa' activar los anormales&lt;br /&gt;Y al que se resbale&lt;br /&gt;Boster dale, dale&lt;br /&gt;Dale, Don, dale&lt;br /&gt;Pa' que se muevan la yales&lt;br /&gt;Pa' activar los anormales&lt;br /&gt;Y al que se resbale&lt;br /&gt;(Boster, dale!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen, mami, que esta noche tu estas algarete&lt;br /&gt;(Dale, papi, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Te andan cazando el Boster y los mozalbetes&lt;br /&gt;(Que se tiren, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Hay una fila de charlatanes pa' darte fuete&lt;br /&gt;(Que se alisten, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Entonces tirate bien suelta, como gabete&lt;br /&gt;(Dale, Omar, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen, mami, que esta noche tu estas algarete&lt;br /&gt;(Dale, papi, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Te andan cazando el Boster y los mozalbetes&lt;br /&gt;(Que se tiren, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Hay una fila de charlatanes pa' darte fuete&lt;br /&gt;(Que se alisten, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Entonces tirate bien suelta, como gabete&lt;br /&gt;(Dale, Omar, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo soy su gato&lt;br /&gt;Ella es mi gata en celos&lt;br /&gt;Quiere buscar rebuleo del bueno&lt;br /&gt;Quiere fingir que no les gusta el blin-blineo&lt;br /&gt;Y cuando canto hasta abajo con mi perreo&lt;br /&gt;Por ahi andan su novio en un fantasmeo&lt;br /&gt;Me esta que esta noche va haber un tiroteo&lt;br /&gt;Diles que yo ando con mi gato en el patrulleo&lt;br /&gt;(Y al que se lamba, jurao me lo llevo!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dale&lt;br /&gt;Dale, Don, dale&lt;br /&gt;Pa' que se muevan la yales&lt;br /&gt;Pa' activar los anormales&lt;br /&gt;Y al que se resbale&lt;br /&gt;Boster dale, dale&lt;br /&gt;Dale, Don, dale&lt;br /&gt;Pa' que se muevan la yales&lt;br /&gt;Pa' activar los anormales&lt;br /&gt;Y al que se resbale&lt;br /&gt;(Looney Tunes, dale!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen, mami, que esta noche tu estas algarete&lt;br /&gt;(Dale, papi, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Te andan cazando el Boster y los mozalbetes&lt;br /&gt;(Que se tiren, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Hay una fila de charlatanes pa' darte fuete&lt;br /&gt;(Que se alisten, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Entonces tirate bien suelta, como gabete&lt;br /&gt;(Dale, Omar, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen, mami, que esta noche tu estas algarete&lt;br /&gt;(Dale, papi, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Te andan cazando el Boster y los mozalbetes&lt;br /&gt;(Que se tiren, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Hay una fila de charlatanes pa' darte fuete&lt;br /&gt;(Que se alisten, que estoy suelta como gabete!)&lt;br /&gt;Entonces tirate bien suelta, como gabete&lt;br /&gt;(Dale, Omar, que estoy suelta como gabete!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/navidtabrizi/DonOmar.mp3" target=_blank&gt;Listen To "Dale, Dale Don Dale" By Don Omer.&lt;/a&gt;(right click-save target as ...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-111513468431097055?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/111513468431097055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=111513468431097055&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/111513468431097055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/111513468431097055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/05/some-spanish-ha.html' title='Some Spanish Ha!'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-111348215085664068</id><published>2005-04-14T15:33:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T15:35:50.856+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Colour of my dreams...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.resene.co.nz/swatches/jpegs/Formica_Black.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-111348215085664068?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/111348215085664068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=111348215085664068&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/111348215085664068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/111348215085664068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/04/colour-of-my-dreams.html' title='Colour of my dreams...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8736123.post-111340873503210219</id><published>2005-04-13T18:52:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T19:16:03.090+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Artik gitme zamani geldi...</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://gallery.photo.net/photo/3270211-md.jpg" width=50% height=50%&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gözümden yaş geldi&lt;br /&gt;İçimden ağlamak&lt;br /&gt;Yüzümden düşen bin parça&lt;br /&gt;Konuşmak lazım konuşmak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gözlerim dolmuş boşalmış bir kere&lt;br /&gt;Sütten kesilmiş bebek gibiyim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soruyormusun bakalım nasılsın diye&lt;br /&gt;Ne biliyorsun belki iyi değilim bu gece&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anlamadan --anlamadan&lt;br /&gt;Dinlemeden --dinlemeden&lt;br /&gt;Son sözümü --son sözümü&lt;br /&gt;Söylemeden, nereye böyle&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belki ben yatak döşek&lt;br /&gt;Duygularım parça parça&lt;br /&gt;Her günümü her gecemi&lt;br /&gt;Yaşıyorum iki kişilik&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halimi sordular söyledim birilerine&lt;br /&gt;Söylemesemiydim acaba&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8736123-111340873503210219?l=alone-abroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/feeds/111340873503210219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8736123&amp;postID=111340873503210219&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/111340873503210219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8736123/posts/default/111340873503210219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alone-abroad.blogspot.com/2005/04/artik-gitme-zamani-geldi.html' title='Artik gitme zamani geldi...'/><author><name>..: Navid Tabrizi :..</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
