On Giresun where is The hometown of kemancha, And touches the earlock of the love A couple of drops join Into the flood of Görele.
Since a thousand years,
Enver Usta has carved into hearts
On Çavuşlu he is,
The whole Black Sea plays horon
Cry out the mountains their love
The mulberry shutting nightgales up
Makes bows speak up
On Giresun where is
The hometown of kemancha,
And touches the earlock of the love
A couple of drops join
Into the flood of Görele.
In Anatolia, love happens at a snail’s pace, summer is as arid as a desert. The reason behind hiding the loved one in the darkness of nights is a tendency for a lover. It is the chance that for the lover that a gentle breeze somehow sweeps down to the window. Whatever that could not be told before, is whispered slowly through the breeze at that night.
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“Loving, everything starts with loving somebody. Everything ends with loving somebody here,” Sait Faik says. As he says “here”, he means Istanbul...
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Old houses in Erzurum smell the history abundantly. Patriarchal family tree pervaded over the rooms designed to open into each other. This large family order consisting of grandfather, grandmother, father, mother and children has been transformed into a life shelter according to the Islamic principles in old houses of Erzurum.
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