This is the Kurdish verison of the poem. It is interesting because we rarely see or hear the Kurdish language spoken or written anywhere.
Légerina zarokek biçuk li Stenbol
Xeyal bike Stenbol,
Rubarén digihaştin bahré
Keştiyén bi rédiketin
Av dibirikin
Çunehatén di coşiyan
Li pira Galata’yé
Li cihé ku mér masi digirtin
U mirovén ji bo bihişt u klimayan dua dikirin
Li Stenbolé
Ez [...]
Not only did I have the sky of pink and gold and the goulettes and tankers streaming down from the Black Sea to the Marmara to watch, but from my lovely black iron work balcony at the Bebek Hotel, there were the waiters and the rich people drinking coffee below. So every morning instead [...]
Mr. Blue Jeans owned a shop on the second floor of the Covered Market. Tourists rarely go to the second floor. His little shop sold t-shirts, jeans, sweatshirts and belts. Yusuf and I went there first when my search began for the little boy because Yusuf had to return a pair of [...]
Mehmet, a handsome young man worked at the Café Efsane. In this story, he was the invisible translator. Because Yilmaz and I could not speak the same language, Mehmet was able to translate instantaneously as I asked questions, Yilmaz answered or Yilmaz ask his questions and I answered. Mehmet had a very [...]
İstanbul’da Bir Küçük Çocuğu Arayış
İstanbul’u Hayal Et.
Nehirlerin denize kavuştuğu,
Gemilerin açıldığı,
Trafiğin kükrediği,
Galata köprüsünde
Erkeklerin balık tuttuğu,
İnsanların
Cennet ve klimalar
İçin dua ettiği
İstanbul’da
Küçük bir çocuğu arıyorum.
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The Café by the New Mosque was called the Café Efsane.
Whenever friends were going to Istanbul, I would ask if they would go and say hello to the waiters of the Café Efsane and maybe look for the little boy Yilmaz. Some of my friends took my photos with them to give to the [...]
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