Saturday, May 23, 2009

Nazim Hikmet: Some Advice To Those Who Will Serve Time In Prison

If instead of being hanged by the neck
you're thrown inside
for not giving up hope
in the world, your country, your people,
if you do ten or fifteen years
apart from the time you have left,
you won't say,
"Better I had swung from the end of a rope
like a flag" --
You'll put your foot down and live.
It may not be a pleasure exactly,
but it's your solemn duty
to live one more day
to spite the enemy.
Part of you may live alone inside,
like a tone at the bottom of a well.
But the other part
must be so caught up
in the flurry of the world
that you shiver there inside
when outside, at forty days' distance, a leaf moves.
To wait for letters inside,
to sing sad songs,
or to lie awake all night staring at the ceiling
is sweet but dangerous.
Look at your face from shave to shave,
forget your age,
watch out for lice
and for spring nights,
and always remember
to eat every last piece of bread--
also, don't forget to laugh heartily.
And who knows,
the woman you love may stop loving you.
Don't say it's no big thing:
it's like the snapping of a green branch
to the man inside.
To think of roses and gardens inside is bad,
to think of seas and mountains is good.
Read and write without rest,
and I also advise weaving
and making mirrors.
I mean, it's not that you can't pass
ten or fifteen years inside
and more --
you can,
as long as the jewel
on the left side of your chest doesn't lose its lustre!

May 1949

10 comments:

  1.  
    Nazim Hikmet was a wonderful poet. His family should bring his body back to Turkey. He always wanted to be buried in Anatolia.
    I love these lines:
     
    "This earth will grow cold,
    a star among stars
                   and one of the smallest,
    a gilded mote on blue velvet--
          I mean this, our great earth.
    This earth will grow cold one day,
    not like a block of ice
    or a dead cloud even
    but like an empty walnut it will roll along
          in pitch-black space . . ."
     
     
    But I cannot help but wonder how a man with his sensibilites could possibly live in the Soviet Union under the likes of a Stalin?  He endured prison because of speaking out against Turkey's oppressive measures and then goes to live in a country where there were gulags, persecutions, constant monitoring, censorship of writers ....very strange. He wrote a poem in praise of Stalin for god's sake! He wrote: "It is Stalin's hand that hold's the banner of life and peace"? Good grief!
    Hikmat was called a Romantic Communist. He had to have seen it all through rose colored glasses indeed if he was able to remain silent about Soviet Russia's crimes.

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  2. It's true Hikmet was one of those many intellectuals and artists whom were unable to raise their voice against the horrors of Stalinism. Pablo Neruda also wrote poems which praised Stalinism. Very few famous leftists at the time did in fact display a complete intellectual independence from the Soviet Union. One of them was Brecht, but he paid a hefty price: rejected by the West, he also remained under close scrutiny by the Stassi and the KGB. It was very hard at the time for anyone who was a convinced leftist to endure being ostracized by everyone if they remained true to their ideals and at the same time they rejected Stalinism.

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  3. They'll never take me alive.

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  4. thankgodimatheistMay 23, 2009 at 6:42 PM

    Bi'eed esh sharr!

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  5. I can't help it, but Hikmet reminds me of Richard Lovelace's To Althea, from Prison. Lovelace was a Cavalier poet, very loyal to King Charles I, so I know you Lefties will sneer! (Just kidding)
    His most famous lines:
     
    <table border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" align="center">
    <tbody>
    <tr>
    <td>Stone walls do not a prison make,</td>
    <td align="right" valign="top"><span>        25</span></td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
    <td>  Nor iron bars a cage;</td>
    <td></td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
    <td>Minds innocent and quiet take</td>
    <td></td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
    <td>  That for an hermitage;</td>
    <td></td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
    <td>If I have freedom in my love</td>
    <td></td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
    <td>  And in my soul am free,</td>
    <td align="right" valign="top"><span>        30</span></td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
    <td>Angels alone, that soar above,</td>
    <td></td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
    <td>  Enjoy such liberty.</td>
    </tr>
    </tbody>
    </table>

     
    http://www.bartleby.com/40/238.html

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  6. I'm sorry but Hikmet's poem called to mind a famous prison poem by the Cavalier poet, Richard Lovelace. He was a great supporter of King Charles I, so I know you Leftists will sneer! ( Just kidding)
     
    To Althea,from Prison
      by Richard Lovelace
     
    Remember these famnous lines?
     
    "Stone walls do not a prison make
    Nor iron bars a cage...."
     
     
    http://www.bartleby.com/40/238.html
     

    ReplyDelete
  7. I'm sorry but Hikmet's poem called to mind a famous prison poem by the Cavalier poet, Richard Lovelace. He was a great supporter of King Charles I, so I know you Leftists will sneer! ( Just kidding) 
      
    To Althea,from Prison 
      by Richard Lovelace 
      
    Remember these famous lines? 
      
    "Stone walls do not a prison make 
    Nor iron bars a cage...." 
      
      
    http://www.bartleby.com/40/238.html

    ReplyDelete
  8. WEEPING WINDS

    "Oh! Cold March winds your cruel laments
    Are hard on prisoners' hearts,
    For you bring my mothers pleading cries
    From whom I have to part.
    I hear her weeping lonely sobs
    Her sorrows sweep me by,
    And in the dark of prison cell
    A tear has warmed my eye.

    Oh! Whistling winds why do you weep
    When roaming free you are,
    Oh! is it that your poor hearts broke
    And scattered off afar?
    Or is it that you bear the cries
    Of people born unfree,
    Who like your way have no control
    Or sovereign destiny?

    Oh! lonely winds that walk the night
    To haunt the sinner's soul,
    Pray pity me a wretched lad
    Who never will grow old.
    Pray pity those who lie in pain
    The bondsman and the slave,
    And whisper sweet the breath of God
    Upon my humble grave.

    Oh! Cold March winds that pierce the dark
    You cry in aged tones,
    For souls of folk you've brought to God
    But still you bear the moans.
    Oh! Weeping wind this lonely night
    My mothers heart is sore
    Oh! Lord of all breathe freedoms breath
    That she may weep no more."
    Bobby Sands


    'tiocfaidh ar la!!'

    "Our day will come!"

    "Our revenge will be the laughter of our children."

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJEySrDerj0&feature=related

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  9. "Our revenge will be the laughter of our children."
    -----------
    I saw that one written on the wall in the Israeli occupied territories.

    ReplyDelete