I can taste your people through the tingly sensation of your spices.
I can feel your mountains in my fingers dwelling in the sugar.
Like rice your population is many swelling on the Sultan streets.
Shouts of 'Merhaba! ', 'Guzel! ', 'tatli! ' are hot spikes of pepper
Dangling in the air of aroma and loud noises of human songs.
Your beauty bakes in your sun, while I wait for the warm tea.
The shape of your land is the shape of the people you host,
Honestly, purely; and alive they are! !
You taste like hot warm salt in my mouth when memories caress my mind of you, Istanbul.
I long for your passion, I long for your pride
I long for your beauty that is living inside my mind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow! I enjoyed this, you are really talented miss. vivid imagery with a hint of inuendo