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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=468503" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hymn To Life</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hair falling on your forehead<br>  suddenly lifted.<br>Suddenly something stirred on the ground.<br>The trees are whispering<br>  in the dark.<br>Your bare arms will be cold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Far off<br> where we can't see,<br> the moon must be rising.<br>It hasn't reached us yet,<br> slipping through the leaves<br> to light up your shoulder.<br>But I know<br> a wind comes up with the moon.<br>The trees are whispering.<br>Your bare arms will be cold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From above,<br>from the branches lost in the dark,<br>  something dropped at your feet.<br>You moved closer to me.<br>Under my hand your bare flesh is like the fuzzy skin of a fruit.<br>Neither a song of the heart nor &quot;common sense&quot;--<br>before the trees, birds, and insects,<br>my hand on my wife's flesh<br> is thinking.<br>Tonight my hand<br>  can't read or write.<br>Neither loving nor unloving...<br>It's the tongue of a leopard at a spring,<br>   a grape leaf,<br>   a wolf's paw.<br>To move, breathe, eat, drink.<br>My hand is like a seed<br>  splitting open underground.<br>Neither a song of the heart nor &quot;common sense,&quot;<br>neither loving nor unloving.<br>My hand thinking on my wife's flesh<br>  is the hand of the first man.<br>Like a root that finds water underground,<br>it says to me:<br>&quot;To eat, drink, cold, hot, struggle, smell, color--<br>not to live in order to die<br>but to die to live...&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now<br>as red female hair blows across my face,<br>as something stirs on the ground,<br>as the trees whisper in the dark,<br>and as the moon rises far off<br>  where we can't see,<br>my hand on my wife's flesh<br>before the trees, birds, and insects,<br>I want the right of life,<br>of the leopard at the spring, of the seed splitting open--<br>  I want the right of the first man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Nazim+Hikmet">Nazim Hikmet</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=468503" data-title="Hymn To Life de Nazim Hikmet" data-description="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,
 ..."></div>
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