"the sun was behind your hand

it was november, we were cold

one of the trees on the boulevard was dying

the city’s windows were laughing carelessly

we were kissing on every corner

evening had fallen upon the boulevard of mists

it had long fallen upon our shoulders

we were alone, like severed arms

no fires were burning in the mountains

the lighthouses had gone dark

we were searching for each other’s eyes"

- Atilla İlhan, a passage from the poem Sisler Bulvarı (Boulevard of Mists)

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