"This Thing Called Prague" by Nazim Hikmet, trans. by Randy Blessing and Mutlu Konuk

[cinaed]

(It's probably bad that I automatically think of Zelenka whenever I see something about Prague, huh? *grins*)

THIS THING CALLED PRAGUE

This thing called Prague is a magic mirror.
I look,
and it shows me in my twenties,
I am like leaping.
I'm like thirty-two healthy teeth,
         and the world is a walnut.
But I want nothing for myself, except
to touch the fingers of the girl I love--
   they hold the greatest secret of the world.
My hands break more bread for my friends
         than for myself.
I kiss all the eyes with trachoma
   in the villages of Anatolia.
Somewhere in the world I fall,
   a martyr to the world revolution.
They pass my heart
   on a velvet cushion
      like a Medal of the Red Flag.
The band plays a funeral march.
We bury our dead in the earth
         under a wall
         like fertile seeds.
And on the earth our songs
      aren't Turkish or Russian or English
                  but just songs.
Lenin lies sick in a snowy forest:
brows knitted, he thinks of certain people,
stares into the white darkness,
        and sees the days to come.
I am like leaping.
I'm like thirty-two healthy teeth,
         and the world is a walnut
            with a steel shell
               but full of good news.
This thing called Prague is a magic mirror.
I look again,
and it shows me on my deathbed.
Arms stretched out at my sides,
sweat beads on my forehead like drops of wax.
The wallpaper is green.
The sooty rooftops of the big city
out the window aren't Istanbul's.
My eyes are still open
--no one's closed them--
and nobody knows yet.
Bend down,
look into my pupils:
you'll see a young woman
waiting alone at a rainy bus stop.
Close my eyes,
   comrade, and leave the room
                  on tiptoe.

Comments

"This Thing Called Prague" by Nazim Hikmet, trans. by Randy Blessing and Mutlu Konuk

[maxinemayer.livejournal.com]

Thanks for posting this wonderful poem! You will see by my icon that I've actually heard of Hikmet! Here's my post about him which might interest other readers of your posts!

Post of December 24, 2007:

"Nazım Hikmet
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
(Redirected from Nazim Hikmet)

Nazım Hikmet Ran
Turkish Literature
By category
Epic Tradition
Orhon
Dede Korkut - Köroğlu

Folk Tradition
Folk literature
Folklore

Ottoman Era
Poetry | Prose

Republican Era
Poetry | Prose

Nazım Hikmet Ran (November 20, 1901 – June 3, 1963), commonly known as Nazım Hikmet (pronounced[help] [ˈnazɯm ˈhikmɛt]), was a Turkish poet, playwright, novelist and memoirist who is acclaimed in Turkey as the first and foremost modern Turkish poet, is known around the world as one of the greatest international poets of the twentieth century.[1] He earned international fame with his lyric power, through the "lyrical flow of his statements".[2] He has been referred to as a "romantic communist"[3] or a "romantic revolutionary".[2] He was repeatedly arrested for his political beliefs and spent much of his adult life in prison or in exile. His poetry has been translated into more than fifty languages.


"It's this way: being captured is beside the point, the point is not to surrender."


Found and got permission from vervassal to use this Hikmet icon, the sentiment of which I love, but had no idea who Hikmet was. Finally, I looked the word up on line and the above is what I found - I'm assuming he's the source of the quote.

I'm going to check out amazon dot com and see if I can find any of his poems in a used book version to buy!"

Love, max