My beautiful Istanbul
From January to March, I walked your streets,
wrapped in cold winds and soft light.
The Bosphorus, always moving,
carried whispers from a thousand years.
A city where people smile at you for no reason,
where a thousand cats and countless dogs welcome you.
Seagulls circled above, happy to see me
as I crossed bridges between continents.
The Grand Bazaar pulled me in,
with its chaos, its colors, its stories
woven into every corner.
So many people there, each with their own history.
Spices filled the air, and I found myself
lost, not in direction but in time.
I descended into the Basilica Cistern,
where I stared in the eyes of Medusa.
I stood beneath the shadow of Hagia Sophia,
feeling its weight, its age,
and yet it stood so effortlessly,
a testament to everything you are.
And the trees, oh, the beautiful trees...
Old, magnificent witnesses, standing silent
in forests and gardens everywhere.
In the quiet moments,
when the crowds faded,
I watched the city breathe,
felt its pulse in every alley,
its history seeping into my bones.
Istanbul, you held me for those months,
in your arms of stone and sea,
and even as I left,
you stayed with me,
etched into my memory,
my beautiful Istanbul.
I will love you always...
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