Biography of Nazim Hikmet
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 a distinguished, cosmopolitan family with predominantly Circassian (Adyghe) roots, along with high social position and relations to Polish nobility. From his father's side, he had Turkish heritage. His father, Hikmet Bey, was the son of Çerkes Nâzım Pasha, after whom Nâzım Hikmet was named. His mother, Ayşe Celile Hanım, was of 3/8 Circassian, 2/8 Polish, 1/8 Serbian, 1/8 German, 1/8 French (Huguenot) ancestry. Nazım’s maternal grandfather, Hasan Enver Pasha, was the son of Polish Mustafa Celalettin Pasha and Saffet Hanım who was born to Serbian Omar Pasha and Circassian Adviye Hanım (daughter of Çerkes Hafız Pasha). Mustafa Celalettin Pasha (born Konstanty Borzęcki herbu Półkozic) authored "Les Turcs anciens et modernes" in Constantinople (present-day Istanbul), in 1869. This is considered one of the first works of national Turkist political thought. Nâzım Hikmet's maternal grandmother, Leyla Hanım, was the daughter of Mehmet Ali Pasha, of French (Huguenot) and German origin, and Circassian Ayşe Sıdıka Hanım who was also a daughter of Çerkes Hafız Pasha.His uncle, Enver Celalettin Pasha, was a member of the Ottoman Army General Staff. Nâzım Hikmet and Celile Hanım's cousins include Oktay Rifat Horozcu, a leading Turkish poet, and the statesman Ali Fuat Cebesoy, among others.
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Nazim Hikmet Poems
as a child he never plucked the wings off flies he didn't tie tin cans to cats' tails or lock beetles in matchboxes or stomp anthills
Hymn To Life
The hair falling on your forehead suddenly lifted. Suddenly something stirred on the ground. The trees are whispering
Things I Didn'T Know I Loved
it's 1962 March 28th I'm sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train night is falling I never knew I liked
A Sad State Of Freedom
You waste the attention of your eyes, the glittering labour of your hands, and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves of which you'll taste not a morsel;
It's This Way
I stand in the advancing light, my hands hungry, the world beautiful. My eyes can't get enough of the trees--
Letter To My Wife
11-11-1933 Bursa Prison My one and only! Your last letter says:
I Living is no laughing matter: you must live with great seriousness
Some Advice To Those Who Will Serve Time...
If instead of being hanged by the neck you're thrown inside for not giving up hope in the world, your country, your people,
The knight of immortal youth at the age of fifty found his mind in his heart and on July morning went out to capture the right, the beautiful, the just.
Our eyes are limpid drops of water. In each drop exists
To overcome lies in the heart, in the streets, in the books from the lullabies of the mothers to the news report that the speaker reads,
Sometimes, I, too, tell the ah's of my heart one by one like the blood-red beads of a ruby rosary strung
I was born in 1902 I never once went back to my birthplace I don't like to turn back at three I served as a pasha's grandson in Aleppo
A Spring Piece Left In The Middle
Taut, thick fingers punch the teeth of my typewriter. Three words are down on paper in capitals:
Sometimes, I, too, tell the ah's
of my heart one by one
like the blood-red beads
of a ruby rosary strung
on strands of golden hair!
takes to the air