And I took this photo of the man right at the Bosphorus. His little basket was full of small snacks. He was probably trying to sell them to make the ends meet. His strong and fixated gaze affected me so much. He was most probably thinking the hard times he was facing, but I like to think that he was also listening İstanbul..
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEb7eZh3tJXL6lsbB0oV7XjNOcqto_tQgaTBB-p7JQ3cJjvdFiS91emr9fpZlTYL4BOYyn2IUAQ8r-51bWRNuXjd5zGiJnSVpkzC8HDjsMu7dPux_fgubva973SaRh-TLl0ov8JVccyfl-/s400/kanl%C4%B1ca+048+%28Small%29.jpg)
I AM LISTENING TO ISTANBUL
I am 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 am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am 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 am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am 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 am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Still giddy since bygone bacchanals,
A seaside mansion with dingy boathouses is fast asleep,
Amid the din and drone of southern winds, reposed,
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am 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 am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am 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 am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
Orhan Veli Kanik (1914-1950)
Translated by Talat Sait Halman (1982)
A good match--the man and the poem.
ReplyDeleteVery nice.
Oh my goodness, what a beautiful poem! I love poetry about cities, especially when this poetry is written by a native; the spirit of the city lives right inside. And the photo, the man, the basket... I like to think that like you said, he is listening to the sounds of the city, and maybe dreaming just a little. It never hurts to dream...
ReplyDeleteNevine
That is a beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteMary
I feel like I have traveled far away after reading this...the photo of the man is wonderful.
ReplyDeleteWOW ! Great post as ever from you, thank you
ReplyDeletelove these two together...
ReplyDeletei love to watch people,
but important to listen to a place too!
thanks for the reminder
I love that poem......I can travel to places sometimes with the right inspiration. That did it. Putting out all of your senses to truly feel a place, a moment, a poem. thanks
ReplyDeletethis was such a beautiful poem. i see why you love it so...
ReplyDeletei adore the picture of the man as well...people are so beautiful in all their complexities.
much love
An amazing pairing of prose and photo. Makes me wonder when I ever just sat and took the time to 'listen' to Montreal. I do take the time here in the country - but there is always so much to do in the city that I don't think to stop, pay attention and just listen. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteHi Aysegul
ReplyDeleteWell this truly is a lovely poem,... You can feel how much the poet loves his city.. and a reflection on opposites..he seems to love and appreciate both what is beautiful and what may seem annoying but is part of this city he loves. Also the new ways and the ways of old. Which is exactly what this photo shows with this man in his grey suit and worried expression sitting amongst the younger crowd with their happy smiley faces and colourful attire. [well I think I imagine the smiley faces but the feeling is there]...
Lovely!!! xx Julie
That is a beautiful poem, reminds me to really listen. YOu never know what you may hear.
ReplyDeleteTHANK YOU!
ReplyDeletefor supporting me in my struggle for achieving justice for my rights to my pictures. RESPECT!
Oh! beautiful poem!!! and the picture of the man is so strong! Now I really want to close my eyes and listen to Istambul...
ReplyDeleteI had the same reaction to the man's face, Aysegul. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind because his expression is so intense. It's a sad photo, but beautiful in it's way. I liked the poem, too; it helped me hear the sounds of that city even though I've never been there. A very special posting!
ReplyDeleteAysegul, I beautiful poem and photo I feel like I could be there now when I close my eyes and think of the words in the poem.
ReplyDeleteSo touching, I love to sit on the beach and close my eyes and listen to the sounds around me. It gives you a whole different perspective and this poet has captured Istanbul at its heart.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this. I copied the words to print and frame, a remembrance to close my eyes and listen to what is going on around me.
the man really seems to fit the essence of the poem
ReplyDelete~laura
What an outstanding poem. Thank you for sharing this.
ReplyDeletehe is listening to the sounds of the city, and maybe dreaming just a little. It never hurts to dream...
ReplyDeleteWork from home India
A beautiful poem. I feel like I've visited Istanbul. Thanks so much for sharing. I love the photo of the man and your description.
ReplyDeleteI'm moved inexplicably by the photo of the man. I'm drawn in to imagine his whole life. I read the poem twice to enjoy it all the more.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, and the old man looking rather worn and tired is also very interesting.
ReplyDeleteI love how you've combined the image and poem here. That gentleman is definitely absorbing the atmosphere of Istanbul. The poem is wonderful and evoked memories of when I lived in Turkey in the 70's!
ReplyDeletePretty poem with so sentimental words.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely lovely.. loved it completely.. :)
ReplyDeleteThankyou so much for visiting my blog and joiing the followers list.. great to hear form you.. i look frward to meeting you more often..
Vooow great translation of a famous Turkish poem, I would love to use it on my site, http://www.best-of-istanbul.com/
ReplyDelete