December 22, 2024 1:30 pm

FAREWELL – Poetry by Nazim Hikmet

Melancolia, 1894-1896The man says to the woman I love, and as if I hold in my palm heart, like broken glass, which I bloodied the fingers, when he broke madly. The man says to the woman I love, and as with the depth of kilometers, with the immensity of kilometers, one hundred percent, a thousand percent, one hundred times the infinitely percent. The woman says to the man, I watched with my mouth, with my head with my heart, with love and terror, curving meon your lips, on your heart, on your head. And what I say now I have learned from you, like a whisper in the darkness, and now know that the Earth, like a mother with her face to the sun, it suckles its most beautiful creature. But what to do? My hair is caught in the fingers of that dies, I can not tear your head, you have to start looking at the eyes of the new born, you have to leave me. The woman was silent, they kissed, a book fell on the floor, a window is closed. That’s how they broke up.

(Nazim Hikmet)

 

 

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