I listen to Istanbul with my eyes closed- Orhan Veli Kanik
I listen to Istanbul, with my eyes closed.
First, a light wind blowing. A soft wind swaying.
The leaves on the trees. Far off in the distance.
The tinkling cups of the tea-seller.
Now the birds are passing in high clamoring flocks.
Nets are pulled in at the fisheries.
A woman’s feet graze the water. The cool covered bazaar
Mahmutpasha, the courtyards filled with warbling pigeons.
Hammer sounds from the docks. Smells of sweat in the spring wind.
An old world drunk in its head,
A waterfront palace with a dark boat shed. The humming of the lodos ceases inside.
A pretty young girl walks by. Chased by taunts, come-ons and curses.
Something falls from my hand. Surely a rose.
A bird is fluttering in your skirts. Your brow is hot, I know, Your lips are wet, I know.
A white moon rises behind the pistachio trees. I can feel the pounding of your heart
I listen to Istanbul, with my eyes closed.
