Ravi Kopra


Tonight As I Stand With My Wife - Poem by Ravi Kopra

Tonight as I stand with my wife
On the terrace of my house

Under the full moon of the spring
Near the pink blossoms of the cherry tree

My bare hands slip over her bare skin
I clasp her in my arms, hold her to my chest

Her head leans on my arms, she closes her eyes
Her long silky hair blows gently in the breeze

I lean over her, lips to lips and give her a long kiss
She sighs, opens her eyes, I look into her eyes

I sigh and and say: O love, what a heavenly bliss!

Topic(s) of this poem: love


Poet's Notes about The Poem

Hymn To Life - Poem by Nazim Hikmet

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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,
something dropped at your feet.
You moved closer to me.
Under my hand your bare flesh is like the fuzzy skin of a fruit.
Neither a song of the heart nor "common sense"-
before the trees, birds, and insects,
my hand on my wife's flesh
is thinking.
Tonight my hand
can't read or write.
Neither loving nor unloving...
It's the tongue of a leopard at a spring,
a grape leaf,
a wolf's paw.
To move, breathe, eat, drink.
My hand is like a seed
splitting open underground.
Neither a song of the heart nor "common sense, "
neither loving nor unloving.
My hand thinking on my wife's flesh
is the hand of the first man.
Like a root that finds water underground,
it says to me:
"To eat, drink, cold, hot, struggle, smell, color-
not to live in order to die
but to die to live..."

And now
as red female hair blows across my face,
as something stirs on the ground,
as the trees whisper in the dark,
and as the moon rises far off
where we can't see,
my hand on my wife's flesh
before the trees, birds, and insects,
I want the right of life,
of the leopard at the spring, of the seed splitting open-
I want the right of the first man.


Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)
Nazim Hikmet

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 18, 2018



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