detays
04-09-2008, 06:01 PM
His life; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naz%C4%B1m_Hikmet
A SAD STATE OF FREEDOM
You waste the attention of your eyes,
the glittering labour of your hands,
and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves
of which you'll taste not a morsel;
you are free to slave for others-
you are free to make the rich richer.
The moment you're born
they plant around you
mills that grind lies
lies to last you a lifetime.
You keep thinking in your great freedom
a finger on your temple
free to have a free conscience.
Your head bent as if half-cut from the nape,
your arms long, hanging,
your saunter about in your great freedom:
you're free
with the freedom of being unemployed.
You love your country
as the nearest, most precious thing to you.
But one day, for example,
they may endorse it over to America,
and you, too, with your great freedom-
you have the freedom to become an air-base.
You may proclaim that one must live
not as a tool, a number or a link
but as a human being-
then at once they handcuff your wrists.
You are free to be arrested, imprisoned
and even hanged.
There's neither an iron, wooden
nor a tulle curtain
in your life;
there's no need to choose freedom:
you are free.
But this kind of freedom
is a sad affair under the stars.
+
I COME AND STAND BY EVERY DOOR
(THE LITTLE GIRL)
I come and stand at every door
but none can hear my silent tread.
I knock and yet remain unseen
for I am dead, for I am dead.
I'm only seven tho' I died
in Hiroshima long ago.
I'm seven now as I was then
when children die they do not grow.
My hair was scorched by swirling flame,
my eyes grew dim, my eyes grew blind.
Death came and turned my bones to dust,
and that was scattered by the wind.
I need no fruit, I need no rice,
I need no sweets or even bread.
I ask for nothing for myself,
for I am dead, for I am dead.
All that I ask is that for peace
you fight today, you fight today,
so that the children of the world
may live and grow and laugh and play.
[1956]
+
THE GREAT HUMANITY
The great humanity is the deck-passenger on the ship
third class on the train
on foot on the causeway
the great humanity.
The great humanity goes to work at eight
marries at twenty
dies at forty
the great humanity.
Bread is enough for all except the great humanity
rice the same
sugar the same
cloth the same
books the same
are enough for all except the great humanity.
The great humanity has no shade on his soil
no lamp on his road
no glass on his window
but the great humanity has hope
you can't live without hope.
Tashkent, 7 October 1958
+
THE CASPIAN SEA
From horizon to horizon
fleeting each other the foaming violet waves were running;
the Caspian Sea speaks the tongue of the winds, balam,
speaks and overflows!
Who called it "çort vazmi!"
The Caspian Sea is like a dead lake!
Boundless, unbridled, a salty water is the Caspian Sea!
On the Caspian Sea friends wander, O.....o!..
enemies wander!
The wave is a mountain
the boat is a deer!
The wave is a well
the boat is a bucket!
The boat goes up
the boat comes down,
off from
the back
of a falling horse,
up to the back
of a rearing horse
the boat rides!
And the Turkoman boatman
sits crosslegged at the helm.
On his head a huge black papak;
it is not a papak :
the fleece of a lamb torn at the belly
he has worn on his head!
The lamb's fleece has fallen over his brows.
The boat goes up
the boat comes down
And the boatman
like "a Turkoman statue of Buddha"
sits crosslegged at the helm, but don't think that
he clasps his hands respectfully in front of the Caspian Sea!
So sure of himself
with all the stone tranquillity of a Buddha statue
he sits crosslegged at the helm.
He does not look
at the waters
embracing
the boat!
He does not look
at the waters
clashing
and cleaving!
The boat goes up
the boat comes down,
off from
bir the back
of a falling horse,
up to the back
of a rearing horse
the boat rides!
- Strong blows the north-west wind strong!
Beware yourself from the wile of the Caspian Sea beware!
Let not the wind play a trick on you!
- Do not care, mom, what may come?
What may come
let it rave,
the north-west wind,
let it rave the waters,
He who has born on the Caspian Sea
shall have his tomb on the Caspian Sea!
The boat goes up
the boat comes down
goes up the bo...
comes down the bo...
up
down...
up...
1928
+
I LOVE MY COUNTRY
I love my country :
I have swung on its plane trees, I have stayed in its prisons.
Nothing can overcome my spleen
as the songs and tobacco of my country.
My country :
Bedreddin, Sinan, Yunus Emre and Sakarya,
lead domes and factory chimneys
are all the work of my people
who even hiding from themselves
smile under their drooping mustaches.
My country.
My country is so large :
it seems that it is endless to go around.
Edirné, Izmir, Ulukıshla, Marash, Trabzon, Erzurum.
I know the Erzurum plateau only in its songs
and I am ashamed
not to have crossed Tauruses even once
to go to the cotton pickers
in the south.
My country :
camels, train, Fords and sick donkeys,
poplar
willow
and red earth.
My country.
The trout which likes
pine forests, best freshwaters and the lakes
at the top of mountains,
and at least half a kilo,
with red reflections on its scaleless, silver skin
swims in the Abant lake of Bolu.
My country :
goats on the Ankara plain :
the sheen of blond, silky, long furs.
The fat plump hazelnuts of Giresun.
The fragrant red-cheeked apples of Amasya,
olive
fig
melon
and of all colours
bunches and bunches of grapes
and then the plough
and then the black ox
and then : ready to accept
everything
advanced, beautiful and good
with the joyous admiration of a child
my hard-working, honest, brave people
half hungry, half full
half slave...
A SAD STATE OF FREEDOM
You waste the attention of your eyes,
the glittering labour of your hands,
and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves
of which you'll taste not a morsel;
you are free to slave for others-
you are free to make the rich richer.
The moment you're born
they plant around you
mills that grind lies
lies to last you a lifetime.
You keep thinking in your great freedom
a finger on your temple
free to have a free conscience.
Your head bent as if half-cut from the nape,
your arms long, hanging,
your saunter about in your great freedom:
you're free
with the freedom of being unemployed.
You love your country
as the nearest, most precious thing to you.
But one day, for example,
they may endorse it over to America,
and you, too, with your great freedom-
you have the freedom to become an air-base.
You may proclaim that one must live
not as a tool, a number or a link
but as a human being-
then at once they handcuff your wrists.
You are free to be arrested, imprisoned
and even hanged.
There's neither an iron, wooden
nor a tulle curtain
in your life;
there's no need to choose freedom:
you are free.
But this kind of freedom
is a sad affair under the stars.
+
I COME AND STAND BY EVERY DOOR
(THE LITTLE GIRL)
I come and stand at every door
but none can hear my silent tread.
I knock and yet remain unseen
for I am dead, for I am dead.
I'm only seven tho' I died
in Hiroshima long ago.
I'm seven now as I was then
when children die they do not grow.
My hair was scorched by swirling flame,
my eyes grew dim, my eyes grew blind.
Death came and turned my bones to dust,
and that was scattered by the wind.
I need no fruit, I need no rice,
I need no sweets or even bread.
I ask for nothing for myself,
for I am dead, for I am dead.
All that I ask is that for peace
you fight today, you fight today,
so that the children of the world
may live and grow and laugh and play.
[1956]
+
THE GREAT HUMANITY
The great humanity is the deck-passenger on the ship
third class on the train
on foot on the causeway
the great humanity.
The great humanity goes to work at eight
marries at twenty
dies at forty
the great humanity.
Bread is enough for all except the great humanity
rice the same
sugar the same
cloth the same
books the same
are enough for all except the great humanity.
The great humanity has no shade on his soil
no lamp on his road
no glass on his window
but the great humanity has hope
you can't live without hope.
Tashkent, 7 October 1958
+
THE CASPIAN SEA
From horizon to horizon
fleeting each other the foaming violet waves were running;
the Caspian Sea speaks the tongue of the winds, balam,
speaks and overflows!
Who called it "çort vazmi!"
The Caspian Sea is like a dead lake!
Boundless, unbridled, a salty water is the Caspian Sea!
On the Caspian Sea friends wander, O.....o!..
enemies wander!
The wave is a mountain
the boat is a deer!
The wave is a well
the boat is a bucket!
The boat goes up
the boat comes down,
off from
the back
of a falling horse,
up to the back
of a rearing horse
the boat rides!
And the Turkoman boatman
sits crosslegged at the helm.
On his head a huge black papak;
it is not a papak :
the fleece of a lamb torn at the belly
he has worn on his head!
The lamb's fleece has fallen over his brows.
The boat goes up
the boat comes down
And the boatman
like "a Turkoman statue of Buddha"
sits crosslegged at the helm, but don't think that
he clasps his hands respectfully in front of the Caspian Sea!
So sure of himself
with all the stone tranquillity of a Buddha statue
he sits crosslegged at the helm.
He does not look
at the waters
embracing
the boat!
He does not look
at the waters
clashing
and cleaving!
The boat goes up
the boat comes down,
off from
bir the back
of a falling horse,
up to the back
of a rearing horse
the boat rides!
- Strong blows the north-west wind strong!
Beware yourself from the wile of the Caspian Sea beware!
Let not the wind play a trick on you!
- Do not care, mom, what may come?
What may come
let it rave,
the north-west wind,
let it rave the waters,
He who has born on the Caspian Sea
shall have his tomb on the Caspian Sea!
The boat goes up
the boat comes down
goes up the bo...
comes down the bo...
up
down...
up...
1928
+
I LOVE MY COUNTRY
I love my country :
I have swung on its plane trees, I have stayed in its prisons.
Nothing can overcome my spleen
as the songs and tobacco of my country.
My country :
Bedreddin, Sinan, Yunus Emre and Sakarya,
lead domes and factory chimneys
are all the work of my people
who even hiding from themselves
smile under their drooping mustaches.
My country.
My country is so large :
it seems that it is endless to go around.
Edirné, Izmir, Ulukıshla, Marash, Trabzon, Erzurum.
I know the Erzurum plateau only in its songs
and I am ashamed
not to have crossed Tauruses even once
to go to the cotton pickers
in the south.
My country :
camels, train, Fords and sick donkeys,
poplar
willow
and red earth.
My country.
The trout which likes
pine forests, best freshwaters and the lakes
at the top of mountains,
and at least half a kilo,
with red reflections on its scaleless, silver skin
swims in the Abant lake of Bolu.
My country :
goats on the Ankara plain :
the sheen of blond, silky, long furs.
The fat plump hazelnuts of Giresun.
The fragrant red-cheeked apples of Amasya,
olive
fig
melon
and of all colours
bunches and bunches of grapes
and then the plough
and then the black ox
and then : ready to accept
everything
advanced, beautiful and good
with the joyous admiration of a child
my hard-working, honest, brave people
half hungry, half full
half slave...