Nazim Hikmet

(1902-1963 / Turkey)

Nazim Hikmet
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Nâzım Hikmet Ran (15 January 1902 – 3 June 1963), commonly known as Nâzım Hikmet (Turkish pronunciation: [naːˈzɯm hicˈmet] ( listen)) was a Turkish poet, playwright, novelist, screenwriter, director and memoirist. He was acclaimed for the "lyrical flow of his statements". Described as a "romantic communist"and "romantic revolutionary", 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.
According to Nâzım Hikmet, he was of paternal Turkish and maternal German, Polish, Georgian, Circassian and French descent. Nâzım Hikmet's mother came from... more »

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  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (4/26/2016 9:31:00 AM)

    Nâzım Hikmet Ran (15 January 1902 – 3 June 1963) , commonly known as Nâzım Hikmet, was a Turkish poet, playwright, novelist, screenwriter, director and memoirist. He was acclaimed for the lyrical flow of his statements. Described as a romantic communist and romantic revolutionary, he was repeatedly arrested for his political beliefs and spent much of his adult life in prison or in exile.
    [from Wikipedia]

  • Neran Sati (12/7/2015 1:59:00 AM)

    Listen how Nazim poetry is bathing in the fountain of freedom! Like a child. No need to impress by style or beauty lines, coming out from genuinity and the love for life. These poems of late autumn, granting juicy fruits, cooling air and the low sun casting surprisingly long shadows...

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (11/22/2015 4:45:00 PM)

    by Hikmet, in Italian:

    ''Il più bello dei mari''

    Il più bello dei mari
    è quello che non navigammo.
    Il più bello dei nostri figli
    non è ancora cresciuto.
    I più belli dei nostri giorni
    non li abbiamo ancora vissuti.
    E quello
    che vorrei dirti di più bello
    non te l'ho ancora detto.

    - Nazim Hikmet

  • Emre Eker (4/14/2014 4:23:00 AM)

    Nazim's wide sky blue eyes are reminsiscent of the great bhosphorus of Turkey..

  • Seha Alturk (12/28/2013 3:24:00 AM)

    Thus we have learnt to live while reading his poetry!

  • Savas Evsen (11/26/2013 11:30:00 PM)

    Nazim was not a turkish nor greek nor italian nor russian. He was a poet of all.

  • Neil Doherty (7/18/2013 6:09:00 AM)

    Sylvia this is a breathtakingly silly statement. As Nazim wrote in Turkish and left behind a huge body of work in the Turkish language the debate over his ancestry (he had partial Polish ancestry by the way) is just plain wrong. Nobody can Turkify a poet who wrote exceptionally well in that language. I really feel you should withdraw that statement as it really is meaningless in the context of late Ottoman, modern Turkish and Greek history. But one question: Can you point out anybody on this planet who does not have what you call mixed blood (the nasty rascist connotations of the phrase should not be overlooked) ....

  • Nurhan Michel (3/13/2013 2:37:00 PM)

    Dear Sylvia, I know it's so sad to not have Nazim for the Greece but he is a Turkish. If you claimed that he was a Russian i would wait a moment, and think about it; because of his last name. What ever reason made you think he was a greek is really nice of you. And got me smile... That means you guys are reading him and learning his philosophy of being a human, just like Turkish people who reads greek poet Yannis Ritsos or Nikos Kazancakis, and try to learn the philosophy of them.

  • Tajinder Heer (11/6/2012 7:09:00 AM)

    I think he was an Artist.............

  • Hande Karatas (9/24/2012 12:25:00 AM)

    Sorry Slyva, but I have to ask what the heck you are talking about. How come was Nazim Hikmet Ran Greek? What kind of a history and greek made-up character are you trying to create? Get your facts straight. Please. Here's a google for this. Good luck!

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Best Poem of Nazim Hikmet

Hymn To Life

The hair falling on your forehead
suddenly lifted.
Suddenly something stirred on the ground.
The trees are whispering
in the dark.
Your bare arms will be cold.

Far off
where we can't see,
the moon must be rising.
It hasn't reached us yet,
slipping through the leaves
to light up your shoulder.
But I know
a wind comes up with the moon.
The trees are whispering.
Your bare arms will be cold.

From above,
from the branches lost in the dark,
...

Read the full of Hymn To Life

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