Nazim Hikmet
SEPTEMBER 30th 1945
Thinking of you is beautiful
and hopeful,
like listening to the best voice in the world
sing the loveliest song.
But hope is not enough for me:
I no longer want to listen,
I want to sing the song...
by Nazim Hikmet, et al PerseaBooks Inc. Paperback
SEPTEMBER 24th 1945
The most beautiful sea:
hasn't been crossed yet.
The most beautiful child:
hasn't grown up yet.
Our most beautiful days:
we haven't seen yet.
And the most beautiful words I wanted to tell you
I haven't said yet...
THE JAPANESE FISHERMAN
The Japanese fisherman slain by a cloud
Was yet but a youth as he sailed in its lee
I heard this song sung by his friends not loud,
As the yellow light went on the Pasific Sea
We fished a fish, who eats it dies,
Who touches my hand, of that he dies.
This, our boat, is a coffin cold
Who steps on board, in boarding dies.
We fished the fish whose eater dies,
Not all at once, but bit by bit,
His flesh goes black, breaks sores and rots
We fished a fish, who eats it dies.
Who touches my hand, of that he dies,
This hand that served me once so well,
Bathed in salt and sound with the sun.
Who touches my hand, of that he dies,
Not all at once, but bit by bit,
His flesh goes black, breaks sores and rots...
Who touches my hand, of that he dies.
Forget me, love with almond eyes,
This our boat, is a coffin cold.
Who steps on board, in boarding dies...
The cloud has passed and told our doom.
Forget me, love with almond eyes,
My rose, you must not kiss my lips,
Death, would wander from me to you,
Forget me, love with almond eyes.
This our boat, is a coffin cold.
Forget me, love with almond eyes
The child that you might have of me,
Would rot within, a rotted egg.
This our boat, is a coffin cold.
The sea we sail is a dead sea.
Oh, mankind, where are you,
where are you?
1956
TODAY IS SUNDAY
Today is Sunday.
Today, for the first time,
they took me out into the sun
and for the first time in my life
I looked at the sky
amazed that it was so far
and so blue
and so wide.
I stood without moving
and then respectfully sat on the black earth,
pressed my back against the wall.
Now, not even a thought of dying,
not a thought of freedom, of my wife.
The earth, the sun and me...
I am happy.
1938
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