İSTANBUL
My words touched everything or I wrote of everything that touched me except of you Istanbul, I never did you, you the master of rhymes As Bosphorus’ s liquid seeped from the pencil of poets
I feared to be called a poet
maybe fearing to drown you in my own lines dripping into the blue waters of my ink
I wrote to darkness the sea love, loves lost but didn’ t to you incapable of holding my pen burning because you the very essence of love you were- it self / my silence isn’ t due to forgetting you don’ t you believe me ask, the sea gulls... flying over the boat to Bostanci... my voice mute in their screams since... i don’ t even cry at- partings, embarrassed... anxious kids living under the bridge may hear me... since to my tears i have appended theirs waving to you this last time... through your clouds don’ t be cross with me, Istanbul the thing i wrote for you maybe is still hanging under that tree that tree on the island...
wait patiently... you’ ll see when your leaves are flying around my hair one avtumn i’ ll come to you sea gulls be my witness I prommise, you Istanbul I’ ll tell it to you face- how, I missed you...!
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