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How beautiful to think of you: Nazim Hikmet |
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Written by Nazim Hikmet
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How beautiful to think of you by Nazim Hikmet
How beautiful to think of you:
amid news of death and victory,
in prison,
when I'm past forty. . .
How beautiful to think of you:
your hand resting on blue cloth,
your hair grave and soft
like my beloved Istanbul earth. . .
The joy of loving you
is like a second person inside me. . .
The smell of geranium leaves on my fingers,
a sunny quiet,
and the call of flesh:
a warm
deep darkness
parted by bright red lines. . .
How beautiful to think of you,
to write about you,
to sit back in prison and remember you:
what you said on this or that day in such and such a place,
not the words themselves
but the world in their aura. . .
How beautiful to think of you.
I must carve you somthing from wood—
a box,
a ring—
and weave you about three meters of fine silk.
And jumping
right up
and grabbing the iron bars at my window,
I must shout out the things I write for you
to the milk-white blue of freedom. . .
How beautiful to think of you:
amid news of death and victory,
in prison,
when I'm past forty. . .
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