Izmir

Is it wet and silent, my mind, soft pieces of my heart
on the surface of The Gulf, on the water, preocuppied and wavy, like an art
on the water, it's blue, blue, the voice of an all-out blue intuition,
A wind of Egean and Izmir of a Wind and the air of Izmir
                                                             and not being straight of my hair
The city, comes from ancient times and whispers to you
The blue
carries something inside of it, just like preoccupied and wavy looks:
A love is remembered in the memory
             wtih riven ferry tracks on the water and folks
                                                                            from Salonika

from somewhere that could raise with glory
somewhere
                  can smell like a melodrama
no need a clue,
It is, certainly, the heir of anicent melodrama
the stream of taughts and being free
Izmir,
no need a clue
Izmir,
The city of blue.

İlgili resim
O. T. K

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