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  • Writer's pictureŞarkılara Mektuplar


I looked for coolness in every corner that day,

I found a shadow, in front of the mirrored drawer.

I lifted my head from the screen, looked to my right.

That's when I saw him.

It was a business card

A word that people who learn Turkish later laugh about.

I wasn't going to laugh

I was embarrassed, I remembered that day.

Then another day earlier.

The first time we met.

As you walk through the door, look inside

Did I ring the bell?

The sweetest man of the world coming out of the inside,

The way you take us in and tell us

The story of his Sufism, through the theater

With the story that makes the building a place.

Yes, we talked about that poet too,

Milk liquor and ney lessons

One of the lodge meals cooked in wood fire

We could come whenever we wanted.

We left there very happy, sullen.

I'll come in a week, I said, gathering his wife and friend.

That week never came, couldn't come

In the bustle of life, this delicacy was lost.

Come, it was time to go,

Good thing there was social media,

I wrote to that sweet man,

Even if we come to you to eat.

The answer came in a bitter tone,

We have negligent friends

We couldn't hold on to you

We migrated from there

However, what was

That little mansion on the shore of the Golden Horn

old time food

The wood-fired sage.

Safiye Derviş

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