It is two o'clock in the morning, the streets are still bustling. It's cool and yet people loitering outside. There are people at sidewalk cafes, there are people in restaurants, we eat here 24 hours 24 and a steak-frites at this time, it makes sense ... ..
Along the beach couples stroll arm in arm, young bike or perched on skateboards have fun without worrying about what time it is. The dogs are enjoying their last walk, taxis are continuing their comings and goings. The parasols are closed but the tables occupied beaches, people walk along the water, some dare to dip their feet .... Many buildings are still burning ... Here people never sleep ....
I take the direction of Jaffa. The clock Ottoman throne in the middle of the square sparkles. It is two o'clock in the morning and there are crowds at Aboulafia, people buy pitot they fill the shwarma, fresh pitot coming out of the oven at any time of day and night, the servers are busy in the restaurant across the street, even the bagel shop is still open; The seller patiently waits, he will be rewarded, a man parks his car where prohibited, blocked traffic and command a huge bagel filled with cheese and salads of all kinds .... the glacier is only the head, he does not recipe tonight but it's cool ... ..
makolète The Arab never closes, sitting in front of glasses of steaming coffee, four men play cards and conversations seem animated. The greengrocer replenishes its stand, it stacks bananas on top of each other and casually throws his cigarette on the sidewalk. It is two o'clock in the morning and nobody buys vegetables, but if it is open he must still have customers. Both men leave the store "AM / PM" frozen pizza in hand, they straddle a motorcycle and fled into the night.
Young squat park benches, cans of cola in hand they speak loudly making big gestures. Cats dig through trash and fight in big blow to the legs and meowing strident, it is the strongest who will win and maybe he will share but perhaps not ... ...
My little street is quiet, bougainvillea are asleep, they s'affalent along stone walls, my house is on, the neighbors do not sleep where they then leave a light, it's a lot here .... A black cat who saw the light of my headlights throws himself on the side, it is still and stares at me from his golden eyes. Two helicopters flew along the sea coast they monitor, they are part of the landscape, it makes sense ... ..
It is two o'clock in the morning and I do not sleep, I print these images in a corner of my memory, I live in Tel Aviv, the city that never sleeps and the nightlife like me who yet hated before. I live in Tel Aviv, Israel I am, I repeat endlessly for fear of forgetting ....
Sleep does take me not too much thinking, too much grief, fear of leaving everything I like here, fear of never finding them. A discreet tear running down my cheek. I furtively wipe .... I suffered a lot today ... ... I do not know the control. In the distance a dog barks, he gives the signal and soon others joined the din ... .. I like that noise ... almost ..
Along the beach couples stroll arm in arm, young bike or perched on skateboards have fun without worrying about what time it is. The dogs are enjoying their last walk, taxis are continuing their comings and goings. The parasols are closed but the tables occupied beaches, people walk along the water, some dare to dip their feet .... Many buildings are still burning ... Here people never sleep ....
I take the direction of Jaffa. The clock Ottoman throne in the middle of the square sparkles. It is two o'clock in the morning and there are crowds at Aboulafia, people buy pitot they fill the shwarma, fresh pitot coming out of the oven at any time of day and night, the servers are busy in the restaurant across the street, even the bagel shop is still open; The seller patiently waits, he will be rewarded, a man parks his car where prohibited, blocked traffic and command a huge bagel filled with cheese and salads of all kinds .... the glacier is only the head, he does not recipe tonight but it's cool ... ..
makolète The Arab never closes, sitting in front of glasses of steaming coffee, four men play cards and conversations seem animated. The greengrocer replenishes its stand, it stacks bananas on top of each other and casually throws his cigarette on the sidewalk. It is two o'clock in the morning and nobody buys vegetables, but if it is open he must still have customers. Both men leave the store "AM / PM" frozen pizza in hand, they straddle a motorcycle and fled into the night.
Young squat park benches, cans of cola in hand they speak loudly making big gestures. Cats dig through trash and fight in big blow to the legs and meowing strident, it is the strongest who will win and maybe he will share but perhaps not ... ...
My little street is quiet, bougainvillea are asleep, they s'affalent along stone walls, my house is on, the neighbors do not sleep where they then leave a light, it's a lot here .... A black cat who saw the light of my headlights throws himself on the side, it is still and stares at me from his golden eyes. Two helicopters flew along the sea coast they monitor, they are part of the landscape, it makes sense ... ..
It is two o'clock in the morning and I do not sleep, I print these images in a corner of my memory, I live in Tel Aviv, the city that never sleeps and the nightlife like me who yet hated before. I live in Tel Aviv, Israel I am, I repeat endlessly for fear of forgetting ....
Sleep does take me not too much thinking, too much grief, fear of leaving everything I like here, fear of never finding them. A discreet tear running down my cheek. I furtively wipe .... I suffered a lot today ... ... I do not know the control. In the distance a dog barks, he gives the signal and soon others joined the din ... .. I like that noise ... almost ..
At 5 am the muezzin call to prayer ... ... I do not hear it every time but for some time I hear it more often, maybe subconsciously I was watching, I this call breaks the silence, it marks the coming of the day ... ... the sound is clear and sweet ... .. it almost lulls me ... ..
It's five o'clock in the morning, the muezzin starts singing, a slight glimmer slips between the flaps, I do not always sleep in an hour the garbage truck pass through the streets, I hear people screaming and s 'yelled as usual ... ..
We are in Tel Aviv, the city that never sleeps ....
0 comments:
Post a Comment