(an all-important note: before we get started…theses wills are not woven for any specificity in time, but rather for a time wherein "the idea" has been defeated in the isles of materialism & communism).
Intellectually befuddled onset:
The moon of those who departed bows like a bough in my mind…then, in the rush of noon, I find myself unable to control my memory, or even I can not remember anything which did not bear its own name at that moment. My imagination, memory & feelings, which supposedly are to be shared by everyone, are being swept through up to the time when my memory is exclusively for martyrs only. A thousand bird at the gate of my heart are standing in fight-like lines, articulating their readiness for the anthem of martyrs, and the maestro of martyrs is in the forefront leading the raging anthem.
Now I can acquaint you with them on my own will, but I cannot demarcate the details of myself, and all is bygone but the letters of their names…
He was my friend…
But disappeared in the hustle of martyrs, but still is two steps away from my heart and the body. He was the country, but now is a far way in the crowd, but…dwelled in the memory as part of eternity. He was like a string of smoke, melting in the crowd and walking backward away from the city, but the more he walked away; the closest he became.
He was my friend…
But vanished in the hustle of martyrs, and therefore became the entire country. He became the one in all men ever after. Oh, my comrade whose perfume in this womb is commingled, I miss YOU. You are as close as the carotid artery is to me, but I miss you since the birth of the new dawn. When there is drought, I'm no longer reluctant in parting the body and pursuing you.
He was my friend…
But he no longer is here, nor is he in his body, but still I can see him in the face of my city. In his departure, the murderous swarms were trembling. They realized the outrageousness of the crime they committed. The killers realized the sinful atrocity committed by one hellish, ignorant soldier in a body that knew nothing but revolution, and the rifle was so intimately infatuated with his shoulder as though it had been a branch to be hung upon. The idea found nothing except a dwelling in his eyes & heart. He was the sea…and everything else was mere froth…
The moment at which the body departed, killers realized that they committed unconsciously the ultimate crime which a rifle never achieved. By assassinating him, the thought that they would assassinate all country, but they promptly realized that the entire city would march in his wedding procession rising the flag and vowing vengeance. Even stones were yelling (oh! All names listed for systematized, disordered and broken assassination, you have the eternal finality, but for the coward is immortal mortality).
If anyone thought, for a split second, himself capable of assassinating the sea, he would be committing suicide by an absolute stupidity.
Pre-hustle talk:
He was telling us- just before going into the timeless journey of death in the haze of invisibility & martyrs' jostle- that revolution can never be compared but to an orange. The revolutionist's mission is to peel off this revolution, make it prepared to be the volcano which is like jasmine and then to strip off the revolution to be relished by everyone. Whoever attempts to make the orange as an ornament, he will be getting it off the right track and thus betrays its principles:
• Revolution was born to be living in the hearts of furious, change-desiring masses.
• For once, let people savor the sweetness of this orange! Let them breathe freedom!
• Make our air & orangish orange out of this revolution in the grayish space.
Martyrs' wills:
• It is impossible to resist occupation with a diseased mind power.
• Victory will never come only by the rifle, and we cannot live the philosophy of the revolution without rifle.
• Our life: is the stage in which we can prove our presence for the others and be martyrs.
• If some people say that revolution is unfavorable phenomenon in many communities, I say that this is untenable reason to be bogged into the morass of compromise & ideological turnabout. Instead, it should be an impetus for the revolution to be vindicated.
• When some "brothers" try to extenuate their fall in mud, this does not mean that we all have to fall or abdicate the revolution. But once principles are overlooked, the revolution is doomed.
• Affiliation must not be determined by any faction, but rather by what thought adopted by this faction. And even if your faction slants away from principles, this unshakable principles will bolster you to grab truth, away from utilitarianism. You should be principled, not factionalist.
• Don't be passengers in life, but you have to make out of your death the compass which will guide whoever lost track.
• Never will the Flag fall.
• Martyrs sacrifice their own lives to keep it high, so do not surrender at the pretext of their departure.
• Conscripted to being revolutionist means you have taken this responsibility, so you should first be conscious of the gravity of your responsibility, and then you should else know well that moralistic & intellectual commitment is the real criterion of your success.