Nâzım Hikmet

The beeches deep in snow,I walk the dark woodsIn sorrow, sorrow.Your hand, where is your

The life-loving, smart,good-hearted deaddon't want forty days of mourningor say, "After me the deluge!"Leaving behind some helpful things- a few words, a tree, a smile -each gets up and goesand does not burden the livingwith the darkness of the tomb,carrying the weightof his stone all alone.And because they ask for nothingfrom the living, it's as if they aren't d

The strangest of our powersIs the courage to liveKnowing that we will die,Knowing nothing more

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 though 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 nor even bread_I ask for nothing for myself_For I am dead for I am dead_All that I need is that for peace_You fight today you fight today_So that the children of this world_Can live and grow and laugh and

Most animals are like people-and like good people

Believe in seeds, earth, and the sea, but in people above all. Love clouds, machines, and books, but people above all. Grievefor the withering branch, the dying star,and the hurt animal, but feel for people above all.Rejoice in all the earth's blessings-darkness and light, the four seasons, but people abov

My head bows before the thing you mention.But my heart doesn't speak that lan

The worstis when people - knowingly or not -carry prison inside thems

Haven't you ever thought of livingunconsciously like bears, sniffing the earth,close to pears and the mossy dark,far from human voices and

The cloth cap on my headdoesn't tellwhat's in it.

Living is no laughing matter:You must take it seriously.So much so and to such a degreethat, for example, your hands tiedbehind your back,your back to the wallor else in a laboratoryin your white coat and safety glasses,you can die for people __ven for people whose faces you__enever seen,even though you know livingis the most real, most beautifulthing.I mean, you must take living soseriouslythat even at seventy, for example, you__lplant olive trees __nd not for your children, either,but because, although you fear death youdon__ believe it,because living, I mean, weighs heavier.- "On Living

And the most beautiful words ever spoken, I have not yet said to you.

I can't promise to becalm, dignified,and indifferent, like a rock by the sea...If my heart's going to break, let it break from anger,grief,or

Never mind the stillness -the deep sleeps to

I like the sound of rain more than my

Separation isn__ time or distanceit__ the bridge between usfiner than silk thread sharper than swords

I know you can't wash in the same river even onceI know the river will bring new lights that you will not seeI know we live slightly longer than a horse and not nearly as long as a crowI know this has troubled people before and will trouble those after meI know all this has been said a thousand times before and will be said after meI didn't know I like the sky cloudy or clearthe blue vault that Andrei watched on his back on the battlefield at Borodino...