Istanbul is the city with dozens of names, city that beheld rises and fall of entire empires. It is giant ancient capital absorbed the breath of centuries.
There is no city in the world like this, the city aspiring to the sky with thousands of minarets sprouting out of the haze like giant mysterious flowers. There is no city in the world like this where the singing of muezzins echoes over the rooftops merging into a loud call over the strait.
Istanbul has no boundaries, growing like a moss on a tree it has swallowed all the shores of Bosporus by its huge body. And dozens of districts and quarters hide in their bowels imprints of dark ages.
But the true rulers of the city are mosques. They are like mountains, like a well-fed plumes who seat on a red roofs suppressing and trying to crush. Among the towers propping up the sky desperate cries of seagulls are heard. They hover among the giant pillars like a small fish around the blue whale. But the bowels of this giant beast are even more astonishing — a huge, incomprehensible sublime construction painted with gold inscriptions and hundreds of flowers. Unbelievable what people can create. And how the creator is small in comparison to his masterpieces.
Have a good day, MarrySav!)
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