My mother used to pray,
my sister wore miniskirts,
my aunt would tie her headscarf softly.
My father used to come home drunk,
we used to go for liquor together
next door.
Koço Efendi recites the Holy Quran,
Madame Aspasia used to knead Easter buns.
No one would ask anyone why.
They used to spoil us,
we'd take it to the top
To look at Istanbul from above.
Kevork Effendi
coffee roasted in the street
I remember-
They say smell is memory,
They are right.
Chairs would wait in front of the door
like people.
When the sardines and sardines are strung
like a rope.
the bottom of the bottle.
It would be evening,
the neighborhood would slow down.
Avram the grocer used to make lakerda from toric,
I remember that red color
like it was yesterday.
Children nowadays
war games as alien as
was not life.
He rang the bell every day, *Leon Burudo;
if the door doesn't open
wouldn't stay on the landing-
no one was kept waiting in Balat.
Yasef used to swindle Solomon,
we'd laugh together;
even shame
would be lightened by sharing.
I don't know why we're tormenting Albert
when we didn't know,
I found out later:
mediocre ones
the smart ones
he could never tolerate it.
Now I ask myself:
Am I the only one who remembers all this?,
or
was it easier not to remember
for all of us?