Spring Like a Rite of Dionysus

It's neither spring nor am I in Istanbul, but a passage from Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar:
One day later you encounter the real spring, spring in the language of the people. Within a single night, the squat plum tree above your path opens its flowers like that famous Flora of the Pompeii frescoes. The following day the branch of an erguvan upon the lattice of a türbe, almost as though in front of your eyes, smiles as though it had woken from a heavy sleep of death, stretches. Another assault, the wisteria above your door blooms, the entire wall and courtyard is bathed in a lavender light like a rite of Dionysus. And Istanbul’s spring multiplies, echoing from valley to valley, from hill to hill.
From his essay "Istanbul's Seasons and Our Art," originally published in the magazine Istanbul in 1953, now republished in Yaşadığım Gibi.


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