Townscape - Istanbul / Moda

I'M LISTENING TO ISTANBUL

I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
At first there blows a gentle breeze
And the leaves on the trees
Softly flutter or sway;
Out there, far away,
The bells of water carriers incessantly ring;
I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Then suddenly birds fly by,
Flocks of birds, high up, in a hue and cry
While nets are drawn in the fishing grounds
And a woman's feet begin to dabble in the water.
I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
The Grand Bazaar is serene and cool,
A hubbub at the hub of the market,
Mosque yards are brimful of pigeons,
At the docks while hammers bang and clang
Spring winds bear the smell of sweat;
I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Still giddy since bygone bacchanals,
A seaside mansion withm dingy boathouses is fast asleep,
Amid the din and drone of southern winds, reposed,
I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
Now a dainty girl walks by on the sidewalk:
Cusswords, tunes and songs, malapert remarks;
Something falls on the ground out of her hand,
It's a rose I guess.
I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.

I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
A bird flutters round your skirt;
I know your brow is moist with sweat
And your lips are wet.
A silver moon rises beyond the pine trees:
I can sense it all in your heart's throbbing.
I'm listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes

Orhan Veli Kanik