There is Death at the End

I'm dying. This time I'm dying for real. Will you come to my life? Will you reach my last breath like Hizir the Gray Horse? There is death at the end, my Heves Ali, of course there is death at the end. If you won't come, if you won't put your hand on my shoulder for the last time, if you won't kiss my forehead and send me off, if you won't ask for forgiveness; At least tell me about Ali, whose name you took: Did you really love me? The guest of sorrowful words, dry eyes, dusty roads, hidden handkerchiefs, heartfelt movements, the prayer of funerals, the confidant of stories... The world is mortal, the day is evening... The Last Mourner is looking for Heves Ali. In the houses, on the streets, along the streams, on the rails, in the ever-growing steppe... He keeps silent by saying Heveeeessss. Tell me your story, I will sing your lament.

There is Death at the End, a love story that lasts half a century. A thin sigh that staggers, wanders from city to city, searches for a cure, raves, remembers, calls for dreams! Kemal Varol skillfully describes the country and tells a novel in which the sun rises and sets. Fairytale-like, roaring, dying.
(From the Promotional Bulletin)



Number of Pages: 227

Print Year: 2016


Language: Turkish
Publisher: Iletisim Publishing

Number of Pages : 227

First Printing Year : 2015

Language : Turkish