AND NOW
I narrate the words of that evening to you
just as I heard from green loud-speaker
thus said the mannish dry voice
we are four figthing soldiers
now..of the walking and living dead
now we have no arms
now we have no head
now... we have no bodies
on one afternoon heat
we fell to to the ground on our faces
we covered our heads with our arms
and heavy war tanks walked and crossed on us
we have noı bodies now
but we are not pıtyıng for them
as we pıty for our hands and our heads
I am Gilbert
I used to be proud of my hands
for many tımes
I have seen them
fallıng wearıly on my knees and pondering
in vain
perhaps they were
more clever and wiser than me
I am Gilbert
one of the Breton villagers
I am Mafeo
I used to love my head very much
my head was embedded in it
and it stayed hungry three days a week
but stood sure of itself..upright
with its lean..black moustaches
on my body
I am Mafeo
of Naples
of Italy...A noeopoltıan
a composer
Nazım Hikmet
A nice poetic imagination, Metin. You may like to read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice........................................