第2部分(第2/7 页)

on roads squeezed between houses leaning toward one another； I was

forced to rub up against walls and doors to avoid being hit by laden

packhorses。　There　were　more　wealthy　people；　or　so　it　seemed　to　me。　I　saw　an

ornate　carriage；　a　citadel　drawn　by　proud　horses；　the　likes　of　which　couldn’t

be found in Arabia or Persia。 Near the “Burnt Column；” I saw some

bothersome beggars dressed in rags huddling together as the smell of offal

ing　from　the　chicken…sellers　market　wafted　over　them。　One　of　them　who

was　blind　smiled　as　he　watched　the　falling　snow。

Had I been told Istanbul used to be a poorer； smaller and happier city； I

might not have believed it； but that’s what my heart told me。 Though my

beloved’s　house　was　where　it’d　always　been　among　linden　and　chestnut　trees；

others were now living there； as I learned from inquiring at the door。 I

discovered that my beloved’s mother； my maternal aunt； had died； and that

her husband； my Enishte； and his daughter had moved away。 This is how I

came to learn that father and daughter were the victims of certain

misfortunes； from strangers answering the door； who in such situations are

perfectly　forthing；　without　the　least　awareness　of　how　mercilessly　they’ve

broken　your　heart　and　destroyed　your　dreams。　I　won’t　describe　all　of　this　to

you now； but allow me to say that as I recalled warm； verdant and sunny

summer　days　in　that　old　garden；　I　also　noticed　icicles　the　size　of　my　little　finger

hanging　from　the　branches　of　the　linden　tree　in　a　place　whose