Bosperous Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Bosporus


Bosporus 1956, the old tanker where I was a galley boy
had anchored waited for orders to proceed into the black sea.
A rowing boat came alongside they were selling fez
the latest fad among us seamen.
They also sold sweet liqueurs which I drank, got drunk and sick
for the first time in my life; I was 15teen.
In the old days, you had to grow up fast and learn to howl with the dogs.
The winter weather was sunny I was awed by the Byzantine mystic
like a fairytale story. I bought the fez.
The last time I was in Istanbul -30 years later- on a ship where I was a cook.
my fall from officer grade had been painful and political.
in Istanbul going back to the ship I was followed by a back of dogs begging for food raided the galley
they knew I was a generous cook