Life where art and poetry blend into each other so completely that reading becomes similar to walking through an art exhibition hall and where the silver light comes through the purple ceiling to show the inscriptions on paper: "Is that me? This one too? I’m back again."

Esma Oniani’s poetry came as a dynamic and untamed torrent, bringing along the frustrating reality, complete with colour, smell and even taste. It is the reality we have missed lately but the present book can fill the void.