Galata Bridge

By Dora Šustić


Drowsy men catch their dinner on a bridge that witnesses the clash of new and old world

– the clash between hip Karaköy, the fashionable area that used to be called a “dark village”, town of the blind, and old Istanbul,

the walled city of Constantine


Galata bridge has no sense of timing, everything happens at the same instance

The smiles of people passing are synchronized with the shouting of fishermen

Namaz from Yeni Cami is the same frequency as the rhythm of my heart

Waves go up way high to the blue sky and the waves go down and hit Medusa’s head

Deep under the ruins of modern day Istanbul, sleeps the real essence of the place

History wrapped in myths' stories of women in love with the wrong prince

Suffering from a terrible disease

Prescribed only for the brave ones

Nothing can go wrong when everything feels right

Although it is just a matter of feeling, feeling is all we have anyway

Senses sharpened like the peaks of minarets

Melting down like colors of pedestrians’ blouses

On the bridge of loneliness

I have spring under my skin though I'm wearing a winter jacket

I have sun boiling in the epicenter of my brain though I resonate coldness

Thick skin carved by the seaside encounters a problem of a present warmth

After being stuck in an illusion for quite some time

Thick skin needs scars of reality checks in order to release love molecules

And shine the light


Swim through the waters like a fish

Fish caught by the fishermen on Galata bridge

It doesn’t matter, we'll all end up in someone’s net, better if it’s in the net of the hungry ones

Than in the net of laziness

Biting one's own tail

In a loop of craziness

Swim fast, it will evoke more pleasure within the ones catching you

Slowness is slow is dull try to move fast

So you become like the sea

So you become the sea

Fairness collides with speed

Too much digging into a spot of motionlessness causes fractions in the mind

Wallowing in shitty thoughts is a road that leads straight to hell

Fish head, fish dinner

And softness of the liquor poured over empty brain

Swim in the streams of own water

And you will find out there is only one stream anyway


Cyclic redemption

Over and over and over again, I find the meaning in simple blue water

Speaks to me like the eyes of the loved one

(Although they are black)


Galata that links two sides of one story – always the same story

– lovers on the bridge




Born in Rijeka, Croatia, Dora Šustić (1991) obtained her BA in political studies at the Faculty of Social Sciences in Ljubljana, Slovenia. In 2012, she moved to Prague, where she currently studies screenwriting for a MA degree at the Film and TV School of the Academy of Performing Arts (FAMU). Her poems, fiction and non-fiction have been published in several international journals (GUTS Magazine, Hourglass Literary Magazine, Modna, Magazine for Art and Feminism etc.). She wrote and directed several short films and is currently writing her first feature screenplay, Virgins of Pomegranates.