Layer 3 project is going to melt people's faces, don't say I didn't tell you anon😉
I just voted "For" on "GIP-77 (part 1): Should the GnosisDAO add moderators to reduce spam" snapshot.org/#/gnosis.eth/proposal/0x6f955ae9fdc38bb9194d0af7915125fae62f161428dca5dfb35e8bc1094eb2cf #snapshotlabs
I just voted "For" on "GIP-77 (part 1): Should the GnosisDAO add moderators to reduce spam" snapshot.org/#/gnosis.eth/proposal/0x6f955ae9fdc38bb9194d0af7915125fae62f161428dca5dfb35e8bc1094eb2cf #snapshotlabs
I have written them, keen, and sarcastic, and long,
With righteously wrathful intent,
Not a stroke undeserved nor a censure too strong;
And some, alas! some of them went!
I AM LISTENING TO ISTANBUL
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
At first there blows a gentle breeze
And the leaves on the trees
Softly flutter or sway;
Out there, far away,
The bells of water carriers incessantly ring;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Then suddenly birds fly by,
Flocks of birds, high up, in a hue and cry
While nets are drawn in the fishing grounds
And a woman's feet begin to dabble in the water.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
The Grand Bazaar is serene and cool,
A hubbub at the hub of the market,
Mosque yards are brimful of pigeons,
At the docks while hammers bang and clang
Spring winds bear the smell of sweat;
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
Still giddy since bygone bacchanals,
A seaside mansion with dingy boathouses is fast asleep,
Amid the din and drone of southern winds, reposed,
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
Now a dainty girl walks by on the sidewalk:
Cusswords, tunes and songs, malapert remarks;
Something falls on the ground out of her hand,
It's a rose I guess.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes closed;
A bird flutters round your skirt;
I know your brow is moist with sweat
And your lips are wet.
A silver moon rises beyond the pine trees:
I can sense it all in your heart's throbbing.
I am listening to Istanbul, intent, my eyes
Orhan Veli Kanık