Few Poems From Nazım Hikmet
THE SONG OF THE SUN DRINKERS
This is a song:the song of those
who drink the sun in earthen bowls!
This is a tress:
a tress of flame!
it is twisting;
it is burning like a bloody crimson torch
on the dark brows of
the heroes with bare copper feet!
I too saw those heroes,
I too braided that tress,
I too crossed with them
I too saw those heroes,
I too braided that tress,
I too crossed with them
the bridge
going to the sun!
I too drank the sun in earthen bowls.
I too sang that song!
Our hearts took their speed from the earth
we stretched ourselves
I too drank the sun in earthen bowls.
I too sang that song!
Our hearts took their speed from the earth
we stretched ourselves
by tearing the mouths
of golden-maned lions!
We sprang:
we rode the lightning wind!
The eagles
swooping
from the cliffs
flapped light-gilded wings.
Flame-wristed riders whipped
flapped light-gilded wings.
Flame-wristed riders whipped
prancing horses!
There is a raid on
a raid to the sun!
We will conquer the sun
the conquest of the sun is near!
Those who cry in their houses
and carry their tears
like a heavy chain
around their necks
should not travel
with us!
Those who live on the crust of their hearts
should not follow us!
Here:
millions of red hearts are burning
in the fire
that fellfrom the sun!
You too
take your heart out from your rib cage;
hurl it
take your heart out from your rib cage;
hurl it
into the fire
that fell from the sun
throw your heart beside our hearts!
There is a raid on
a raid to the sun!
We will conquer the sun
the conquest of the sun is near!
We were born from earth, fire, water, iron!
Our wives nurse our babies with the sun,
our copper beards smell of the earth!
Our joy is hot!
Our wives nurse our babies with the sun,
our copper beards smell of the earth!
Our joy is hot!
hot like blood,
hot like the “moment”
that sizzles
in the dreams of young men
We hook our ladders to the stars
stepping on the heads of our dead
We hook our ladders to the stars
stepping on the heads of our dead
we rise
toward the sun!
Those who dieddied fighting;
they are buried in the sun.
We have no time for mourning.
There is a raid on
a raid to the sun!
We will conquer the sun
the conquest of the sun is near!
Red vineyards of blood-speckled grapes are smoky!
Heavy brick chimneys
twisting,
belching!
The one at the head –
He who commands – yells!
This voice!
the force of this voice
this force
that blinds the wounded hungry wolves,
this force
makes them stop
in their tracks!
Order us to die
order!
We are drinking the sun in your voice!
We are getting high,
We are drinking the sun in your voice!
We are getting high,
getting high!…
On the smoky curtain of blazing horizons
riders with sky-ripping lances are running!
On the smoky curtain of blazing horizons
riders with sky-ripping lances are running!
There is a raid on
a raid to the sun!
We will conquer the sun
the conquest of the sun is near!
The earth is copper
the sky is copper.
Sing out the song of the sun drinkers,
Sing out
Let us all sing out!
THE POEM OF UNFAİR WORLD!
Take your neck off that rope, kid!arent there swings for you?
Get off that cold concrete,
arent there no more places to sleep?
i gave my mum,
i gave my dad,
I gave my most loved ones to death;
i' ve never seen it ''going'' at my age like that,
A broken neck, my life broken by system like my neck,i didnt aware of my life to cutted of by bourgeois like all of ancients humans.
… And so they took our ability to hope of us.
what should i tell you, I hope he's going to someone who needs them.
World unfair child!
World bully.!
i believing We're going to equalize on that day,
good understanding of my words, This stutter, the dust and the smokeone the spring, i 'll come be to you.
SAUDADE
He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman.
The woman's dream was of a miniature house
with a garden where honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
He loved a miniature woman.
The woman's dream was of a miniature house
with a garden where honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
The giant loved like a giant,
and his hands were used to such big things
that the giant could not
make the building,
could not knock on the door
of the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
at that house.
and his hands were used to such big things
that the giant could not
make the building,
could not knock on the door
of the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
at that house.
He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman,
a mini miniature woman.
The woman was hungry for comfort
and tired of the giant's long strides.
And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf
with a garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
He loved a miniature woman,
a mini miniature woman.
The woman was hungry for comfort
and tired of the giant's long strides.
And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf
with a garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
Now the blue-eyed giant realizes,
a giant isn't even a graveyard for love:
in the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house...
a giant isn't even a graveyard for love:
in the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house...
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