Portrait Of Kyrenia
The coral mountains are natural inns,
Where all giants and elves stay without sins.
The vivid pine trees spectate the play of the sea,
And the red brick houses smoke their pipes with glee.
The tranquil rocks whisper about the scenario of the coast,
And those aristocratic cottages beneath have a salty toast.
The enthusiastic buses sway in the turns with the breeze,
Which warns Mr. Seagull to stop fishing in the freeze.
Then the silver carpet of the illuminating road,