How many really beautiful women exist in the world? Certainly many more than we dare imagine. Countless, indeed, are "beautiful" moving through the streets of our world. Yet how many of them could boast that secret charm and magic that has always - from time immemorial - has bewitched all those who have approached? Very few!
It may seem paradoxical, but the beauty in and of itself I believe has nothing to do with that indefinable grace, that irresistible charm and aura of seduction that for some women seem to be a gift of nature. A magic spell for which they themselves are not necessarily aware and can drive anyone crazy then delude themselves to define and describe its components. Anyone, except the poets.
Istanbul is! A Princess of the Orient with an incomparable charm, an irresistible grace, a charm which - although based sull'esotica beauty of its mosques, its ancient buildings, markets, gardens and walls - not to be identified with that beauty. Like a graceful Princess unreachable and it appears sensitive to the traveler and, indeed, with his only appearance, also unwittingly, in fact, the witch, fascinates him, seduces him ... the forces of love beggar at his feet.
"I saw the ruins of Athens - says Lord Byron on his return from his travels some - Ephesus and Delphi. I have traveled a large part of Turkey, many parts of Europe and even some in Asia, but no work of art or nature has impressed me so I try as the sight of the two sides of the castle of the Seven Towers to the end of the Horn Golden.
For many writers, in fact, Istanbul - along with Venice and Roma - remain one of the most beautiful cities in Europe and certainly one of the most beautiful in Asia.
Maybe it's crystal clear that the light winds, the air smelling of the Bosphorus - steeped in the sea - the bold colors and at the same time reserved the flowers, the soft sound of a thousand voices rising from the markets or the Galata Bridge and the which recline slightly - from above - the calls of muazin ... will the domes of mosques with their minarets, slender, sweet and spicy smells of spices, the hospitable kindness of the people generally imagine that no Westerner, will be the ' relaxed atmosphere, casual, confident in his God: ... Allah is all this and, along with this, many other components will be more difficult to understand and identify ... but the fact remains that I have not known tourist or traveler who has returned from Istanbul showing insensitive to his charms.
I remember my first time coming from the airport, I arrived by chance on the great square, where - among flower gardens and fountains - a friendly faced off Sultan Ahmet Camii (Blue Mosque), Ayasofia (Santa Sofia) and the Town of Ibrahim Pasha. I was enchanted. Later I entered the Blue Mosque - my first mosque, despite the many years spent in North Africa - and the charm is made intimate, discreet, confidential. He won the many reservations which have always impartial as a scholar, and opposed to Islam rampant in my mind while creating the conditions for a more confident availability.
Then again, the harmony of the forms of Hagia Sophia (now a museum), the allure of dark and lapping Yerebatan Sarayi (336 columns from the tank and the two heads of Medusa), a quick visit to the Palace of Ibrahim Pasha ... and I was at his feet. Seduced. Dazzled. Flirty.
But, as I wrote before, its fascination may derive from the beauty of the elements that compose it-Gono? I do not think!
Without taking anything away from the Theodosian Walls, the Topkapi Sery with its many pavilions, the Galata Bridge (did you know that the first person to think a bridge like Leonardo da Vinci was commissioned by the then Sultan), a Valid Yeni Camii and Rustem Pasha Camii, the bustling Grand Bazaar and
Istanbul is a magical city, from the dreamy personality, the pace slow and nostalgic, as if it was enchanted in the memory of its singular splendor dates back to the great Ottoman Empire. disconsolate sadness (huzun) in Istanbul is its beauty - appears to support his most famous poet, Orhan Pamuk - "a state of mind that the city has assimilated with pride" and that comes from frustrated dreams of grandeur of modern Turkey, from the ancient ruins that have engulfed the houses without deleting; wood from old buildings that
becomes black for moisture and cold. This is the melancholic temperament, which makes this waiver dreaming of Istanbul one of the most beautiful of the beautiful. Most had been at one time without rival odalisque, a favorite among a thousand other concubines. And now rested lying on the Golden Horn, the memory to the past, while the screaming sirens of the boats in the fog, the seagulls flying over the open wings, and sellers of fried fish and lure customers clash unlikely chorus fashion.
Istanbul: like all the most beautiful women of the past, mysterious, proud and arrogant at times, but still warm, sweet, romantic, languorous, voluptuous.
Istanbul: what was once considered the "magic door" between East and West. Today, Spirited Away, while remaining aging always herself. Who can say how long this will last graceful charm?
the tiny, delicious Egyptian Market.
Without detracting from the mighty mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent (Suleymani Camii) - squat and masculine on the outside, warm and voluptuous all ' Internal - the Galata Tower and the popular district of Beyoglu, without wanting anything away from all this and the thousand views of the Bosphorus waterway that always appears in an old wooden house and another, I remain convinced that the splendor and charm of this city rests on the arcane mystery of the "individuality".
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