If Russia were truly wise,
a master of the global stage,
it would not chase the fields of Ukraine,
where history burns like dry grass in the wind.
It would turn instead to Anatolia’s heart,
to the crossroads where empires bled,
to the mountains where Kurds still dream,
to the rivers that carry Mesopotamia’s breath.
For Ukraine is soil contested,
a chessboard of others’ hands,
but Turkey —
Turkey is a gate,
a key of East and West,
a fortress between seas,
a land where every empire hungers.
If Russia were truly the boss of the world,
it would have seized the gate,
not the garden,
and bent history’s hinge
to its own command.
But wisdom is not always power,
and power not always wisdom.
The gate still stands,
and the Kurds still wait
for the day no empire
writes over their name.