Life Stories of the Extinct Elder People

The years ago were the years when poverty prevailed. There were also rich people, of course, but they were not like the rich people of these days. They had harvest incomes from their ancestral estates, goods of both classes on which they made a living with meat and milk, and they had no other regular incomes. They did not know what social security or retirement was. They used to live in two-storey graft-painted bay windows.

In their greetings, they would listen to the agency on the wooden radio attached to the lime-whitewashed wall console, use a pocket watch, eat the dishes cooked in the pumped gas stove, and light up in the rustling louse lamp. These were their privileges from the poor. The informal people were obliged with their modest lives. The name of the rich person was put on the end of the name, and the name of the poor person was put in the beginning of the name of the family. Gentlemen used to call poor people as masters.

We Are Old People! - Poetry 1

We do not understand the language of the new generation

Our mother built in the mad cold of winter

We used to sit by the hot tandoor and we would not feel cold

Because a sweet one that always keeps us warm

There was happiness, we ate dry bread

Our belly was filled with human love.

Passing our torn rubber shoes through the door

patches the mechanic and wears it runs

we used to play cheerful, joyful and happy,

People smelled trust.

Our mother patches the ripped knee of our trousers

yamar, we used to wear it without offense, we were happy

nobody would make fun of it, let's not be ashamed

she smiled just looking at our faces

there was no selfishness, no selfishness.

We Are Old People!

We lived life to the fullest, the day would not end.

We were people adorned with loving hearts

We used to look full of life in our eyes

They would laugh, play a neighborhood match,

our knees bleed by falling

we would continue without pain, we would be happy.

The neighbor boy would throw stones, our heads would be split

grown-ups wouldn't interfere, we are neighbors boy again

We used to play with our elders would be happy too.

Taken two or three days before the holiday

puts rubber shoes under our pillow

We would wear it as soon as we came from the eid prayer.

Even the holidays were beautiful separately for the first time

Celebrate the holidays of Mom and Dad

They give pocket money like they give us the world

We were full of joy, peace and love.

We Are Old People!

We didn't know what adolescence is.

There was no respect for our little one

we used to look with love we were young but we were not ignorant

We were young but not adolescents, but we were young

We were like big men, we were kicked out as children

To the struggle for life.

We worked at a very young age

We were still happy, joyful, joyful

All humanity smelled of peace, there was trust in the street

everybody would be at home at a certain time in the evening

We hosted guests, they moaned with laughter

Peaceful laughter we were happy.

It was they who often went to hijab, sat on a sofa covered with a carpet and a carpet, thought they were illuminated, illuminated in the light of a lozenge lamp, served dates and gave a prayer rug to the poor. Don't ask the poor poor man! They were obliged to be grateful, sitting on the floor mat, lying on the floor, eating the food cooked in the tandoori on the floor table, warming up on the barbecue with cow dung and living happiness in the dim light of the oil lamp.

Generations who lived those days and struggled to overcome war, absence and poverty should have been remembered and honored in the age of the millennium. It was those poor who changed every decade, grappled with the monster of inflation in the wheel of the modern age, and thought about future generations with their increased throats. This devoted generation of poor people should have been remembered, although they were not honored with the Republic signed government brooch written on silk paper on red velvet, but they were not remembered.

Times have changed and value judgments no longer exist - Poetry 2

People have changed, the seasons have changed.

Life has changed, life has changed

First our Neighborhood ended, envy took its place

Your kinship is over, dig your place behind you

Said the code took its place, back to the nuclear family

It remained, but now it's over.

A family of 4 people inside the house, unaware of each other

Phone to mother and father in everyone's hands

Since the father has no respect for the mother,

It doesn't make sense for children.

He did not respect the mother and father

The nuclear family is also over, replaced by disrespectful individuals

His mother, father and brother for the benefit

We have even become individuals who spend.

Mankind is over, manhood is only in the mouth

Is but you can't find in the behavior they do

We have become a society.

Self-confidence that young people make fun of their elders

High but useless when you get into

We have become a trivial society.

The children are stuffed into the houses, the mother's

He bends his nose to his food but is unhealthy

Deprived of food by consuming fastfood products

Her kids have to race like a racer

Even quitting and playing games

We have become a society that is afraid.

We Had Values.

The thirties have already passed away, the number of the forties has decreased, and the fifties are preparing for migration. The Sixties have no problems over time yet. Their spiritual reward attached to the red velvet is evident! I think that the black and white backgrounds of the extinct old people, which they call our life story, should be played with a radio sketch tomorrow, even if it is not on color tv.de, and the representation of the "Life Struggle Award" should be given to the younger generations in the final of the game.