Istanbul Pain
I learned to really love Istanbul from a friend of mine from Izmir. How the love of Istanbul can be lived, how it makes the heart ache, it was processed in the depths of my soul with the verses of Atilla İlhan.
Now, whenever I go to Beyoğlu, I take photos for him and have a few words with street artists.
No one knows the love of Istanbul in them, people sometimes pass by, take pictures, rarely throw money into the donation boxes in front of them, but only those who look into their eyes and do not spare a hello understand the love in their eyes.
I just want to love Istanbul as much as they do, as much as Atilla İlhan if I can...
Since we have mentioned his name so much, this article should end with a verse or two from the poem...
hey Istanbul, is that you?
are these your hands
hey, are these ships yours?
minarets between your teeth like toothpicks
port to port
hey, are these tattooed ships spitting diesel yours?
why do they get so gigantic as the nights get flatter
Why are the sparks of help constantly flying out?
from their antennae
no better place for
what about Istanbul and me
or spread your verses in full, like four-colored wall posters.
passenger abbas pasting on customs walls
what about my grief
or your pain
You made me live without a hole by crushing my sleep with your heavy hobnails.
like a crazy snake vomiting helpless venom
the auger you emptied into me
it's your pain
it's yoursAtilla İlhan
