9 Haziran 1963 Razgrad/BULGARİSTAN
Bunk beds are dumb, duvets are hell's track,
Wasn't it the Maiden's Tower, which made our essences poets,
Çalimli Hagia Sophia, cartel Sultanahmet,
In front of us while looking at Leyla like crazy.
Üsküdar, if not the capital of love, what was it?
Incessant, futile, the thunder of my liver,
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