Monthly Archives: February 2008

Eyup Sultan Mosque and visitors


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Selections for february-2008

  1. tulips : The Inner Man
  2. yellow, white tulips and Origin of the tulip name
  3. Open the doors
  4. german fountain
  5. Suleymaniye Mosque in frame
  6. gateway to the Polonezkoy
  7. ticket office, Haydarpasa ferry station
  8. Europe Shopping Mall
  9. Fethiye Mosque, Pammakaristos Church
  10. blue corner and balat streets

Molla Gürani Mosque


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Eyup Sultan Mosque


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Sultanahmet views


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Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye
I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm,
your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm,
yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new,
in city and in forest they smiled like me and you,
but now it’s come to distances and both of us must try,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye.
I’m not looking for another as I wander in my time,
walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme
you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me,
it’s just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea, Continue reading

Sultanahmet streets to the sea


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wooden houses in Suleymaniye


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wooden houses in Suleymaniye


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balat portres : two pretty girl


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The Gift by Necati Tosuner

How well I’ve done, to stay up all night long!

* * *

In fact I thought I’d kicked the cigarette habit. It was hardly a short time; for seven years I hadn’t smoked. That doesn’t mean I hadn’t smoked at all. Once every three or four months, at the dinner table, as if wanting to prove myself, I’d sit back and puff on one. And so the worries of taking it up again were left behind. If I wanted, I’d smoke… and I wasn’t a slave to cigarettes at all.
What will power that was! Continue reading

Yeni Cami (New Mosque)


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I’VE ALWAYS REMEMBERED YOU ON MOONLIT NIGHTS

Really, I should have written this ages ago. I put it off and put it off: I kept putting it off.
Why didn’t I write it then? I knew my father was dying. The angel of death was pursuing him, counting the days. I too was being pursued by a kind of vindictive angel — this song. Wherever I went it followed. I couldn’t believe my ears, I was scared, unknown powers were playing tricks on me. Perhaps I should have written about it there and then, but I was running away from that. That the song followed me wherever I went was strange enough but I didn’t want the affair to be further confused by the daemonic magic of the written word. If I could have written at the time I don’t know whether it would have turned out exactly as I imagined. A restraining hand from within kept holding me back. And, too, my grief was so fresh that to convert it right away into the written word seemed to me an unpleasant bit of utilitarianism. I was keeping my distance. Continue reading