1.  There are a lot of poems which made me think, but these two left an indelible mark on me.
     First one is 'Martin Eden' by English poet Jack London written in the beginning of 20th century. It's a story of a fellow Martin who transforms from a common sailor into an outstanding author of his society. The gist of this story was that he falls in love with young, bourgeoise Ruth & does impossible just to let her family accept him in their family. Along the way of his growth he observes how Londons bourgeoisie is heavily  spoiled. 
      Second one is a book by Irish author Jonathan Swift, 'Gulliver's Travels.' I read this book two times in my life(that is how I love it): first in my childhood - nothing more than an interesting tale about super human, & second time I read it this summer and understood how deep it is, that this is not entirely children's literature. In the first part of the book is about the absurd vanity of the midgets. In the second, in the country of giants, the point of view is changing, and it turns out that our civilization deserves the same ridicule. In the third part, the arrogance of human pride is ridiculed. Finally, in the fourth appear vile exe as a concentrate of primordial human nature, not ennobled by spirituality which are those who are not taught.
      P.S: Personally, I love 'Karlsson-on-the-Roof' by Astrid Lingren.
- Believe me, Carlson, happiness is not in pies ...
- Are you crazy? And in what is it?


2.  Firuz is a nice guy. If you want to know more about him. Read this poem:


Admit it, Firuz, the world is an illusion.
The air you breathe, the earth which you step on
The water you drink, the fire that blames you, is just an illusion.
They are not eternal.
Admit who plunged into this illusion.
One day will surely wake up.
Even if you are a king, what's the point ...
We are all naked in the river of truth 
And since there is no aroma of constancy in the garden of this world
Get body wounds for blooming roses.
Everything will disappear like the wind blowing leaves during a fall, because the hour of death will come.
Admit it, Firuz, the world is an illusion.
The air you breathe, the earth
which you step
The water you drink, the fire that devours you, is just an illusion.
They are not eternal.
Admit who plunged into this illusion
One day she will surely wake up.
King or not, we are all naked in the river of truth ...


P.S.: this poem is an inspiration by Suleiman. Every time Firuz sees this essay, he comes back to his religious beginnings. He understands that the worries are not worth it, that the desires are ought to be shushed & thing that matters is the legacy which will be left behind.