Tag Archives: Nazim Hikmet

May Day 2011 (1 Mayis Taksim )

May day 2011, 1 Mayis 2011, Taksim-Istanbul, pentax k10d

May day 2011, 1 Mayis 2011, Taksim-Istanbul, pentax k10d

On Living III

This earth will grow cold, a star among stars
and one of the smallest,
a gilded mote on blue velvet -
I mean this, our great earth. Continue reading

1 Mayis 2011 Taksim

May Day 2011,  1 Mayıs 2011, Taksim-Istanbul, pentax k10d

May Day 2011, 1 Mayıs 2011, Taksim-Istanbul, pentax k10d

At this late hour
on this autumn night
I am filled with your words.
Eternal
like time like matter
Naked
like an eye Continue reading

Free society without free journalism

Taksim, 13.march

Taksim, 13.march

.

Taksim, 13.march

Taksim, 13.march

At this late hour
on this autumn night
I am filled with your words.
Eternal
like time like matter
Naked
like an eye
Heavy
like a hand
Words which sparkle
like stars.
Your words came to me
from your heart
your head
your body
Your words delivered you
mother
woman
comrade
Your words were sad
they were bitter
hopeful
heroic
Your words were human.

 

Nazim Hikmet “for Piraye”

 

Maybe I don’t have a “poetic soul” What can I do ?

Women s day celebrations, istanbul kadikoy

Women s day celebrations, istanbul kadikoy

Regarding Art

Sometimes, I, too, tell the ah’s
of my heart one by one
like the blood-red beads
of a ruby rosary strung
on strands of golden hair!

But my
poetry’s muse
takes to the air
on wings made of steel
like the I-beams
of my suspension bridges!
Continue reading

Remembering you is good, your hand forgotten upon a blue dress

Women's day celebrations, Istanbul-Kadikoy, pentax k10d

Women's day celebrations, Istanbul-Kadikoy, pentax k10d

 

Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 O’Clock Poems)

Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes…

Remembering you is good
your hand
forgotten upon a blue dress
your hair
with the grave softness
of the earth of my beloved Istanbul.
This joy of loving you
is like a second person inside me…
The smell of geranium leaves
on your fingertips
warm and comforting
The invitation of your flesh
a hot
intense darkness
scored by vivid red lines…
Continue reading

The faces of our women are the book of our pains

Women's day celebrations, Kadınlar günü kutlamaları, kadıkoy-istanbul, pentax kx

Women's day celebrations, Kadınlar günü kutlamaları, kadıkoy-istanbul, pentax kx

The Faces Of Our Women

Mary didn’t give birth to God.
Mary isn’t the mother of God.
Mary is one mother among many mothers.
Mary gave birth to a son,
a son among many sons. Continue reading

Do away with the enslaving of man by man

Women's Day Celebration, Kadınlar Günü Kutlamaları, Kadıköy-Istanbul, pentax kx

Women's Day Celebration, Kadınlar Günü Kutlamaları, Kadıköy-Istanbul, pentax kx

 

PLEA

This country shaped like the head of a mare
Coming full gallop from far off Asia
To stretch into the Mediterranean
THIS  COUNTRY IS OURS.

Bloody wrists, clenched teeth
bare feet,
Land like a precious silk carpet
THIS HELL, THIS PARADISE IS OURS. Continue reading

Womans Day Events

istanbul, kadikoy, pentax kx

istanbul, kadikoy, pentax kx

 

 

The Faces Of Our Women

Mary didn’t give birth to God.
Mary isn’t the mother of God.
Mary is one mother among many mothers.
Mary gave birth to a son,
a son among many sons. Continue reading

Women’s Day celebrations, Kadikoy

Istanbul, Kadikoy, pentax K10d

Istanbul, Kadikoy, pentax K10d

.

OUR EYES

Our eyes
are limpid
drops of water.
In each drop exists
a tiny sign
of our genius
which has given life to cold iron.
Our eyes
are limpid
drops of water
merged absolutely in the Ocean
that you could hardly recognize
the drop in a block of ice
in a boiling pan.
The masterpiece of these eyes
the fulfillment of their genius
the living iron. Continue reading

Kadikoy, street market

Kadıköy, Istanbul, pentax kx

Kadıköy, Istanbul, pentax kx

On The Fifth Day Of A Hunger Strike

My brothers,
Forgive me if I’m unable to say
honestly and straightforwardly
all that I would like to say to you
I’m drunk, my head is light, it spins,
not from raki
but from hunger.
My brothers,
I’m European, I’m Asian, I’m American,
In this month of May
I’m not in jail or on a hunger strike,
But lying at night in a meadow
With your eyes as near to mine as the stars
And your hands in mine as a single hand
like the hand of my mother
like the hand of my helpmate
like the hand of life. Continue reading