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    June 08

    I'm Listening to Istanbul

    I am listening to Istanbul, with 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, with my eyes closed.
    I am listening to Istanbul, with 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, with my eyes closed.
    I am listening to Istanbul, with 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, with my eyes closed.
    I am listening to Istanbul, with 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, with my eyes closed.
    I am listening to Istanbul, with 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, with my eyes closed.
    I am listening to Istanbul, with 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, with my eyes closed.