The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
I finally made it to your city,but I was late, Samet,we couldn’t get together:I was late by the space of death.I didn’t want to hear your voiceon tape, samet—I can’t look at pictures of the deadwithout totally dying. But the…
Thinking of you is pretty, hopeful,It is like listening to the most beautiful songFrom the most beautiful voice on earth…But hope is not enough for me any more,I don’t want to listen to songs any more,I want to sing.
it’s 1962 March 28thI’m sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin trainnight is fallingI never knew I likednight descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plainI don’t likecomparing nightfall to a tired birdI didn’t know I loved the…
A young Japanese fisherman was killedby a cloud at sea.I heard this song from his friends,one lurid yellow evening on the Pacific. Those who eat the fish we caught, die.Those who touch our hands, die,This ship is a black coffin,you’ll…
Mary didn’t give birth to God.Mary isn’t the mother of God.Mary is one mother among many mothers.Mary gave birth to a son,a son among many sons.That’s why Mary is so beautiful in all the pictures of her.That’s why Mary’s son…
If instead of being hanged by the neck you’re thrown inside for not giving up hopein the world, your country, your people, if you do ten or fifteen years apart from the time you have left,you won’t say, “Better I…
Since I’ve been in jailthe world has turned around the sun ten timesAnd if you ask the earth, it will say:“It’s not worth mentioning,a microscopic time.”And if you ask me, I will say:“It’s ten years of my life.”I had a…
Sometimes, I, too, tell the ah’sof my heart one by onelike the blood-red beadsof a ruby rosary strung on strands of golden hair!But mypoetry’s musetakes to the airon wings made of steellike the I-beams of my suspension bridges!I don’t pretend…
Remembering you is goodin prisonamid the newsof victory and deathas my fortieth year passes… Remembering you is goodyour handforgotten upon a blue dressyour hairwith the grave softnessof the earth of my beloved Istanbul.This joy of loving youis like a second…
Our eyes are limpid drops of water.In each drop exists a tiny sign of our geniuswhich has given life to cold iron.Our eyes are limpid drops of watermerged absolutely in the Oceanthat you could hardly recognize the drop in a…