(Excerpt)

and from the narrow

shores of Bosporus

green cities and fountains

made of sprouts rose;

blossoms looked like fairies

flowing, descending

in cisterns: jewels, rain full

of red precious stones.

And the sun reflected onto

the Bithynian mountains

to the Vlaherne and

Magnavre palaces

which unobstructedly rose

and gleamed up high

and from the Golden Gates

to the Heptapyrgion

up to the end of stranded

emerald islands

legions of palaces

and armies of monasteries

as if the spells of witches

were cast upon them and

they spread over the domes

and mansions and you shone

oh my soul over all the motionless

crosses and the cypresses.