When I was young in Paris, I was a devout Baudelaire lover. Was enraptured by beauty, balcony and travel. Poetry had seeped into my soul like sacred sorrow; Dripping like drops of sugar into Absinthe. The climate created by his reverie is unlike any other place! Surrounded by lush laurels and opium gardens... In the enchanted paradise where every pleasure is a sin, In its embrace, there were the flavors of a thousand blessings. One day, bidding farewell to the life of that land, I returned wholly to the universe of my homeland. But since the passing of those days in that garden, The flowers of poetry have not faded in my heart.
Translated by: Mehmet Barın Erturan
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