I am writing this letter while watching from outside the gently falling snow,
And sipping steaming coffee on my desk.
Trace of rain drops glasses is watching me.
I see the domes of the distance, Eyup and Fatih Mosque's.
A seagull is soaring through the opening in front of me that open the wings infinite
Yellowed leaves from the poplar trees quietly released
The hospital with whitening accumulated on the roof
I'm starting this snowy morning of Istanbul day with pleasure ...
The last night Ciragan readings guest is Dogan Hizlan whom critic author.
He told us to 1950 generations in our literary world
friendships over this generation and was very pleasant conversation.
One of the audience, ask to him what there is no place of poetry in our lives ..
However, I think life is going to together with poem ..
This morning I saw the window that falling snow,
first come to my mind at Ataol Behramoğlu's poem
which the poem''Snow White''as they came down ...
White, the snow fell like silk
Imagine a girl was walking in snow, light steps
I thought my friends, my dear things
As if everything is there with us and will be with us
Songs played in rooms
I thought I should love all the people .............
One of this poem,
One of the abdomen behind the Istanbul roof quietly snowing
Feel the melody you heard quietly playying ...
To put gently at your step ..
Amoung to run and scream people
You arriving silently
which waves hitting the pier edge of the tea garden ...
You are traying rubbings up your hands for heating ...
Soon the waiter put a warm sahlep in front of you
And you are spersing a plenty of cinnamon jar
While watching the shores of
Kadikoy and Uskudar tops in front of you.....
I am sending my love to all my lovely friends
from in this snowy morning of Istanbul ...