"Après le décès de Cheikh Sharafouddin, j'attendais une ouverture pour émigrer de la Turquie, j'étais dans en séclusion dans la mosquée à côté du tombeau de mon Cheikh, priant une nuit auparavant Fajr.
Quand le mensonge est appelé vérité , Tel est l'ordre des choses qui prévaut à notre époque ; chaque valeur morale se retrouve bouleversée de telle manière que les gens ne sont plus capables de distinguer le Bien du Mal
Help yourself my fur coat (One day the Hodja was invited to a wedding. Having arrived in his shabby, everybody clothing nobody seemed to take any notice of him. )
Nasreddin Hodja approached to a crowd gathered around a man in the market of Aksehir. The man was trying to sell his own bird and its
price was too high, 50 Akce (old Turkish gold coin). On the other side, one chicken was for 5 Akce. The Hodja couldn't get the much difference in the prices and asks;
-My fellow countryman, what kind of bird is it
you want 50 Akce?
-Hodja Effendi, this one is not a kind of bird that you know, this has special property.
-What is its speciality?
-My Hodja, this bird is called parrot and speaks.
The Hodja suddenly runs home, takes his turkey from the coop, and comes back to the market. He stays near the man selling the parrot and loudly;
-This bird you see is only for 100 Akce, come, comeee!
The most surprised man in the crowd was the seller of the parrot and he asks;
-My Hodja, isn't 100 Akce too high for a turkey?
-But you are selling yours for 50 Akce, replies Hodja.
-But mine speaks as I said before
-So what, mine thinks!
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