Sunday, 8 August 2010

Istanbul c'est Costantinople

Istanbul seductress

Istanbul of sounds, silver spoons in sweet çay
thick brows and tache, red and white saucers everywhere you look, men sitting
tinkle tinkle

Istanbul of play, rolling dice on wood
sinuous smoke of shishas, cushions and rugs and hot afternoons of mellow
clack clack

Istanbul so cool,
cafés of chic, double soya mocha latte with a dash of cinnamon, terrific views from terraces
a poise all of its own

Istanbul vogue,
down hip graffiti side street, basements of antique and galleries of modern, boys and girls,
clothes too unique to have a tag

Istanbul grime, hoodlums on the baseline
drink and smoke and killa milanese turko nasty
sparkk's a good un'

Istanbul of crowds, diamond of 12 million faces
cultures, colours, flavours flowing trough her ancient veins

Istanbul of old, no one can ever know her
faith and empires hidden behind gummy icecreams

Istanbul places, choppy sea and harbour
Kabatash, Beyouglu and cats roaming free

Istanbul of travellers, swallowed and spat
brief encounters, Andrey and Lera, hope to see you again

Istanbul at sunset, fishermen on Galata bridge
a profile of such beauty, inflamed by shy and dare

Veiled Istanbul, stolen glances
we wanted to have it all

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