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This Munzur Mountain is a long air. They line up like a purple train and go. Saz is played, there is a gathering in the evenings. My heart's scales are upset and go. The Great Euphrates beats its head and goes. My mother beats her chest. The screams of mothers rise. Lamentations rise towards Munzur. I also drew my gun on these Munzurs. I howled at the stars, its loneliness, with its head smoking, towards the mountains. The nomad caravan is heading towards Group Comment Sırıp Gelen (1987)