Turkish Jews of Cyprus
On the island where olives dream,
between sea-salt winds and copper stone,
voices carry of an old Sephardic song,
woven with Turkish tongue,
anchored in Cypriot soil.
They prayed in Ladino,
bargained in Turkish,
and their children ran
through narrow alleys of Nicosia,
where East and West collide.
Neither only Turkish,
nor only Jewish,
but a bridge of memory,
a mosaic of belonging,
an island echo—
Turkish Jews of Cyprus.