That autumn was abundant

That autumn was abundant In Istanbul the ancient and platinum Women with their faces covered and discovered My grandfather arrived on foot to this Ottoman city From the desolate Sebastopol and from other burned villages, From the bloody snow. He spoke about its minarets Certainly he loved the fields of leaves. Autumn, like a river or a glowing bonfire And I don't know where he went to pray, Or perhaps he no longer did so in the city of the sultans But I know in his mouth he carried a needle Noble metaphor of his trade. Perhaps he wandered astonished throughout lovely Istanbul Searching for sustenance or clients Perhaps inclined, he entered one of the thousand mosques Where he prayed While the clocks stood still, Geographies were erased. Because the city was merely a golden breeze falling upon the leaves A multitude of lights upon the holy minarets, My grandfather, A Jewish tailor also took refuge in Istanbul Also another small Jewish city Among the thresholds of history.