Autumn Leaves

Day of the Locusts

It Will Come For Sure

Optimism I write poems they don’t get published but they will I’m waiting for a letter with good news maybe it will arrive the day I die but it will come for sure the world’s not ruled by governments or money but by the people a hundred years from now maybe but it will be for sure Nâzım Hikmet, 1957 English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

George Frederic Watts, Hope, 1886. Courtesy of Tate Britain.

Untold Things

Magic Words

Because of you Because of you, each day is a melon slice                        smelling sweetly of earth. Because of you, all fruits reach out to me                        as if I were the sun. Thanks to you, I live on the honey of hope. You are the reason my heart beats. Because of you, even my loneliest nights        smile like an Anatolian kilim on your wall. Should my journey end before I reach my city,        I’ve rested in a rose garden thanks to you. Because of you I don’t let death enter,        clothed in the softest garments and knocking on my door with songs        calling me to the greatest peace. Nâzım Hikmet, 1960 English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

Hikmet’s gravestone at Novodevichy Cemetery in Moscow, Russia, is still today a place of pilgrimage and devotion for people from all over the world. Photo: fiyonk14.

Through the Desert

The Last Bus Midnight. The last bus. The conductor cuts me a ticket. Neither bad news nor a big dinner                  is waiting for me at home. For me, absence waits. I approach it without sadness                  or fear. The great dark is closing in. Now I can look at the world                  quietly and at peace. I’m no longer surprised by a friend’s treachery,                  a knife concealed in a handshake. It's useless — the enemy can’t provoke me now. I passed through the forest of idols                  with my axe —                  how easily they all came down. I put my beliefs to the test once more,         I’m thankful that most of them turned out pure. I have never been radiant this way,                  never free like this. Nâzım Hikmet English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

René Magritte, La Reconnaissance Infinie, 1961.

Hello, World!

In a wide-ranging interview with Jeff Slate of The Wall Street Journal, Bob Dylan said that “Technology is like: sorcery. It’s a magic show, conjures up spirits, it is an extension of our body, like the wheel is an extension of our foot. But it might be the final nail driven into the coffin of civilization; we just don’t know. Nikola Tesla, the great inventor, said that he could take down the Brooklyn Bridge with a small vibrator. Today, we can probably do the same thing with a pocket computer. Log in, log out, load and download; we’re all wired up”.

Hello Goodbye

Elegy for Satan My dog’s name was Satan. “Was” has nothing to do with his name — nothing happened to his name. And he wasn’t anything like his name. Devils are cruel: the cruel are sly and lie, but they aren’t smart. My dog was smart. I helped to kill my dog a little, too: I didn’t know how to take care of him. If you can’t care for it,                 don’t even plant a tree. A tree that dries up in your hands becomes a curse. “A person learns to swim in water”, you say. True. But if you drown, you drown alone. Mornings now I wake up and listen — no one scratching at my door. I feel like crying. I’m ashamed I can’t cry. He was like a person. Most animals are like people —                 and like good people, too. Under the command of friendship, his thick neck was hair-thin.                 His freedom was in his teeth and legs, his politesse in his long bushy tail. We used to miss each other. He would speak of the gravest matters: of hunger, of being full, of love. But he didn’t know longing for home. That’s on my head. When the poet went to heaven,                 he said: “Ah, but my country...” He died the way everyone dies whether human, animal, or plant — on a bed or on the ground, in the air or in water, suddenly, waiting, or asleep — the way everyone dies, the way I’m going to die, the way we’re going to die... Today it’s ninety-eight in the shade. I gaze at the forest from the balcony: tall slender pines rise deep red against the steel-blue sky. The people sweating, the dogs’ tongues hanging out, they’re all headed for the lake to swim. Leaving their heavy bodies on the shore, they’ll know the happiness of fish. Nâzım Hikmet English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

Blue Moon

Newton’s Apple

27 October 1945 We are one half of an apple,                                    the other half is the big world. We are one half of an apple,                                    the other half is our people. You are one half of an apple,                                    the other half is me,                                                              us two... Nâzım Hikmet English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

Hikmet with his fourth and last wife, Vera Vladimirovna Tulyakova.

☯

The Strangest Creature on Earth You’re like a scorpion, my brother, you live in cowardly darkness                                  like a scorpion. You’re like a sparrow, my brother, always in a sparrow’s flutter. You’re like a clam, my brother, closed like a clam, content, And you’re frightening, my brother,                                  like the mouth of an extinct volcano. Not one,          not five — unfortunately, you number millions. You’re like a sheep, my brother:                                  when the cloaked drover raises his stick,                                                   you quickly join the flock and run, almost proudly, to the slaughterhouse. I mean you’re strangest creature on earth — even stranger than the fish                        that couldn’t see the ocean for the water. And the oppression in this world                                                  is thanks to you. And if we’re hungry, tired, covered with blood, and still being crushed like grapes for our wine,                                                              the fault is yours — I can hardly bring myself to say it, but most of the fault, my dear brother, is yours. Nâzım Hikmet, 1947 English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

Hikmet thoughtfully sitting in between the prison bars. Courtesy of Samet Baysal.

Human Power

There is no shame in dreading death Or thoughts of dying. The strangest of our powers Is the courage to live Knowing that we will die, Knowing nothing more true. Nâzım Hikmet, In the Snowy Night Woods, 1956 English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

A young Hikmet behind the bars of a Turkish prison. He is the one with the mustache. Courtesy of Cumhuriyet.

The Physics of Immortality

24 September 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... Nâzım Hikmet English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

Containing Multitudes

You You are my enslavement and my freedom You are my flesh burning like a raw summer night You are my country You are the green silks in hazel eyes You are big, beautiful and triumphant And you are my sorrow that isn’t felt the more I feel it. Nâzım Hikmet English translation by Larry Clark

Kara de Dios, Halfling, 2018. Courtesy of the artist.

Did Ivan Ivanovich Exist?

A solemn commemoration of the legendary Turkish poet Nâzım Hikmet on the 120th year anniverary of his birth was held on Tuesday, January 25, 2022 in the elegant halls of the Russian Writers and Publishers Union (ASPI) at Moscow, Russia, jointly organised by the Yunus Emre Institute, the Nâzım Hikmet Culture and Arts Foundation and the Nâzım Hikmet Library. Photos: Yunus Emre Institute.

Evidence of Love

To Vera Please come, she said, And stay, she said, And smile, she said, And die, she said. I came, I stayed, I smiled, I died. Nâzım Hikmet, 1963 English translation by Alex Miller

Kara de Dios, Dead Sea, 2018. Courtesy of the artist.

The Count of Monte Cristo

Some Advice to Those Who Will Serve Time in Prison If instead of being hanged by the neck          you’re thrown inside          for not giving up hope in the world, your country, your people,          if you do ten or fifteen years          apart from the time you have left, you won’t say,              “Better I had swung from the end of a rope                                              like a flag” — You’ll put your foot down and live. It may not be a pleasure exactly, but it’s your solemn duty           to live one more day                         to spite the enemy. Part of you may live alone inside,             like a tone at the bottom of a well. But the other part          must be so caught up          in the flurry of the world          that you shiver there inside      when outside, at forty days’ distance, a leaf moves. To wait for letters inside, to sing sad songs, or to lie awake all night staring at the ceiling                   is sweet but dangerous. Look at your face from shave to shave, forget your age, watch out for lice              and for spring nights,     and always remember        to eat every last piece of bread — also, don’t forget to laugh heartily. And who knows, the woman you love may stop loving you. Don’t say it’s no big thing: it’s like the snapping of a green branch                              to the man inside. To think of roses and gardens inside is bad, to think of seas and mountains is good. Read and write without rest, and I also advise weaving and making mirrors.    I mean, it’s not that you can’t pass ten or fifteen years inside                        and more —        you can,        as long as the jewel        on the left side of your chest doesn’t lose its luster! Nâzım Hikmet, May 1949 English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

Cornia River mouth, Quagliodromo Beach, Piombino, Italy. Photo: Stefano Marmino.

Conspiracy theory

Blowin’ in the Wind Bob Dylan How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, and how many times must the cannonballs fly Before they’re forever banned? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind The answer is blowin’ in the wind Yes, and how many years must a mountain exist Before it is washed to the sea? And how many years can some people exist Before they’re allowed to be free? Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head And pretend that he just doesn’t see? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind The answer is blowin’ in the wind Yes, and how many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky? And how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, and how many deaths will it take ’til he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind The answer is blowin’ in the wind

Songs & Verses

Davet Dörtnala gelip Uzak Asya’dan Akdeniz’e bir kısrak başı gibi uzanan   bu memleket, bizim. Bilekler kan içinde, dişler kenetli, ayaklar çıplak ve ipek bir halıya benziyen toprak,   bu cehennem, bu cennet bizim. Kapansın el kapıları, bir daha açılmasın, yok edin insanın insana kulluğunu,   bu dâvet bizim... Yaşamak bir ağaç gibi tek ve hür ve bir orman gibi kardeşçesine,   bu hasret bizim... Invitation Galloping from farthest Asia and jutting out into the Mediterranean like a mare’s head— this country is ours. Wrists in blood, teeth clenched, feet bare on this soil that’s like a silk carpet— this hell, this paradise is ours. Shut the gates of servitude, keep them shut, stop man worship another man— this invitation is ours. To live, free and single like a tree but in brotherhood like a forest—                          this longing is ours. Nâzım Hikmet English translation by Taner Baybars

The Fool on the Hill

National Youth Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman, 22, reciting her poem The Hill We Climb at the inauguration of Joe Biden as the 46th President of the United States on Wednesday, January 20, 2021.