Each city is kneaded by the gaze of its own spirit architect. It speaks the language of the masters who have become voices in his textures. With what they say and what they don't say, they sprout the tree of life in the soil. It guides the spirituality of the times standing shoulder to shoulder in its inner universe. Just like people, sometimes it gets excited and sometimes it gets sad. It searches the earth for the creator of its feelings. He brings down from the book of conquests that shape history to his memory. It resists against oblivion. It overcomes its abandonment with the moves she takes from its spirit world. It confronts history in the face of ongoing isolation. It investigates the way of keeping the memory alive. It sends greetings to the stars assuring confidence. With the clarity of the dawn, it is purified from its dirt. It looks at life from the palace of epic times. It conveys his longing for the bazaars that have been completed with the sweat of brow and the light of eyes. It offers rejections to its abandonment with its carpenters, drapers and designers. It sends horsemen down to earth from the loopholes of its covered bazaars open to the sky. It lives on the march of the lovers to whom songs are sung on their departure. It is consoled with the strength of its roofs, on the walls of which the laments wander. It is milked to the sky from its soul growing roses. It converses with the shower of signs molded from the truth of existence.

Every city leans on the mountains mostly. It tends towards the ability to feel safe. It wants to protect its personality from the calamity of ignorance. It wishes to be painted in the colors of trees, rivers, and the sky. It gets organized against the concrete inside. It carries the colors of being friends with the mountain on its chest. It does not want to forget that the symbol trees, the "Yalnızardıç" are from the roots that form its memory. It does not lend support to the artificiality that destroys its position. It will not consent that her heart to lean on is turned into a flip-flop board. It regrets the destruction of the "Yalnızardıçs", which were suddenly destroyed one night. It lays blacks on its sky. It mourns in its "Grand Bazaar", which smells of spices. It entrusts its voice to the "garbi" wind. It sends sends news to his loved ones in this way. The winds become the mounts of the guardian spirits. They wander around the streets of the city that open to haram. It sends its breath from the great times to the streets.

It does not open its inner world to the traitors who sell their pens to chains. It talks with the anvil of the masters who embroider the stones. It sings the songs of hammers shining with the sweat of coppersmiths. It clings to the thinned love loop in the hands of blacksmiths. It loses its heart to the capability of turning the fire into road of the son of the road. It starts the feast of spirits in Grand Mosques. It takes wings to calls tipping down after long salas. It gives birth to folk songs from the spiritual provisions that are the food of consciousness. It gathers meals from the prayers nested in her chest. It kisses the stirrups of horses that give birth in the season. It springs resurrections from the bloom of time expressed in Amen. It becomes a shelter for the orphans, the stranded, and those in distress. It protects its existence from secretions and epidemics forever. Each city collects its own soul inside. It does not want to mix or get mixed with others. It tries to produce lives from the spiritual world. It commands protection from the pain of lacking direction and road. It advises to be against the wrongs injected into the streets. It proposes to extract experiences from the historical flow of the root example. In order not to be left without a soul, it entrusts its existence to master hands. So that life does not turn into a place of fire, it draws "hu" with its soil and stone. The Ahir Mountains are watchmen over Maraş. Malik Ejder tries to keep the consciousness of the city awake from the plain. Milcan, on the other hand, as if greeting it, asks Maraş and people of Maraş to study the entrustment lesson. It invites the people of Maraş to be registered in the tribe of the beauties who made an appointment with the dawn.

Şehirde
Gecenin ve gündüzün
Uykusunu anbean erteleyen atlıları
Yani ‘İşaret Çocukları’
Hamle üstüne hamledeler
Kalbini rahat tut
‘Yedi Güzel Adam’ın Önden giden
Zarif bakışlısı:
Nuri Pakdil
‘Kalem Kalesi’nde
Elindeki yediveren divitiyle
Yol gösteriyor hâlâ
‘Yazmak Bir Mucize’ diyor
Ekliyor sonra
‘Uzun Yürüyüşte’
‘Yazmadan geçen yıllar:
Yılanlar!’
‘Her yere serptiğim tohumlar:
Mektuplarım’
Sözcüklere yabancılaşmamı durduran
Narin sığınak
Onur kalem benim
‘Bir ibrişim gibi uzayıp giden’
‘Edebiyat’ın varoluş saati
Sükûtun nabzını çatlatan
Geçmiş zaman
Şimdiki zamanda
‘Işık çağlayanına’
Kavuşur gide gide
‘Usta’nın ‘Bir Yazarın Notları’nda
‘Yazmak; uzun yürüyüşe başlamaktır.’