This is home where i was born and lived my childhood. Although it is belong to stranger families and their children anymore, there is not a single dream in which i am in another place than this neighborhood, Beybagi.
Like in my cousin’s humble poem; My beloved Beybagi/ Where i grow my dreams in its gardens / Where i grow its gardens in my dreams.
My father’s uncle wrote this poem for Beybagi.
and this is my father, with his beloved fruit garden.
You can see the original post here at my medium page: https://medium.com/@serdencs/noviembre-fb002e229989
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wow nice post