Life means war, and in that war we all fight the soldier.
We will not be lagging as hard as we can. So, after the letter of the expatriate Murad, one thing can be said, "Do not bring up friend"
"This is how the exile lives"
I understand how difficult it is to live alone in exile, in today's two-day days. I'm sick but do not have to see. Alas, the life of a foreigner, everyone is busy with his work. Today if the mother was next, she would have given water on her head and said, 'Father, will you eat?' There is no news for me here. Three days of fever and cold. Mother does not understand anybody's embarrassment in the countryside, and if I do not eat, no one comes and says, "Have you eaten something?" . All day work here and there to make my own meal myself. Today you tell me a mother, you do not cry I burned the hand while rye rice. So one day I have had to eat all night, I have not spent many nights at all. When I was not working, I turned to the streets on the street for work, for food. Occasionally when I was drinking lots of water I spent the night. Still, I did not let you know because you know if you get a lot of trouble. Exile is the way of life. Mother, you are good, if I do not like it, then I'm fine. I think your smile faces. It is as easy as water to do injustice to the wretched. Keep in mind that the result of this is as hard as stone