Benimi

Once the capital of the Eastern Roman, Byzantine, Latin (Imperial), and Ottoman empires, founded 2700 years ago by Byzas from Megara, the city has been conquered several times and has been put into ruins hundreds of times. The city, which was overrun by peoples, migrations of nations, and armies, and yet each time again arose again from ruins was reborn as Istanbul from its ashes. Her deeply wounded soul was revived each time. I carry the hope in me that it will be so this time again. In the old days, however, the absinthe drunkards stepped up the tower stairs, pushed off from the parapet of the viewer platform, bolted into the air, and fell to the feet of a gendarme. In the pockets of the high diver one found mostly a love letter to a young gazelle-eyed girl, which took the dramatic admirer from now on her prayers. These stories from an old time still sir the Turks to tears, even if they know how to handle things better today in life. For a long time I got up early. That was in Instanbul, on the Asian shore of the Bosphorus, in by beloved city, which has followed me everywhere, and whose memory is forever engraved in my memory like a glowing iron. Every morning I got up at the hour of prayer to write.