Letter To My Wife
Bursa
My one and only!
Your last letter says:"My head is throbbing, my heart is stunned!"You say:"If they hang you, if I lose you, I'll die!"You'll live, my dear—my memory will vanish like black smoke in the wind.
Of course you'll live, red-haired lady of my heart:in the twentieth century grief lasts at most a year.
Death—a body swinging from a rope.
My heart can't accept such a death.
Butyou can bet if some poor gypsy's hairy black spidery hand slips a noose around my neck,they'll look in vain for fear in Nazim's blue eyes!
In the twilight of my last
Iwill see my friends and you,and I'll goto my grave regretting nothing but an unfinished song…My wife!
Good-hearted,golden,eyes sweeter than honey—my bee!
Why did I write you they want to hang me?
The trial has hardly begun,and they don't just pluck a man's head like a turnip.
Look, forget all this.
If you have any money, buy me some flannel underwear:my sciatica is acting up again.
And don't forget,a prisoner's wife must always think good thoughts.
Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)
Nazim Hikmet
Other author posts
To Samet Vurgun
I finally made it to your city,but I was late, Samet,we couldn't get together: I was late by the space of death I didn't want to hear your voiceon tape, samet --I can't look at pictures of the deadwithout totally dying
The Japanese Fisherman
A young Japanese fisherman was killed by a cloud at sea I heard this song from his friends, one lurid yellow evening on the Pacific Those who eat the fish we caught, die Those who touch our hands, die,
Hymn To Life
The hair falling on your forehead suddenly lifted Suddenly something stirred on the ground The trees are whispering in the dark Your bare arms will be cold
Its This Way
I stand in the advancing light,my hands hungry, the world beautiful My eyes can't get enough of the trees—they're so hopeful, so green A sunny road runs through the mulberries, I'm at the window of the prison infirmary
