Spring
the smoke
which is descending from the mountains
and scattering
is not the winter smoke from now on
look ahead..
in the mist as soft as a child's hand
the grafting cloth of the rose trunks
are wet now in damps
the scars of the pruned trees are healing
in the bare limbs half asleep
but still neither a sprout or a leaflet
the embers have not fallen yet
it rained all night
like singing a victory song in showers
and now still
it is drizzling slightly brave and warm
more and more
and smiling like a brother
but it is still possible
of the south winds to blow again
even it will snow a little
but the SPRING...?
it is more than a herald now
on and on
The SPRING has come
Nazım HİKMET
Translation Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Related quotes
Communist Lying In Bursa Citadel
your beloved is a communist
who has been in prison
since ten years
lying in bursa citadel
he lıes ther
improsened
but his chains broken apert
he reached
the ultımate post in the world
but lıes in bursa citadel
his roots are in the country soil
bears the burden like sheik bedreddin
he lies in bursa citadel
his heart has not been drilled
and not sticking
and is brave as before as ever
his song has not been finished or exhausted
full of hope
still not losıng the paradise yet
he lies in the prison
that lies in BURSA CITADEL
Nazım HİKMET Translatıon Metin ŞAhin
poem by Metin Sahin
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The Most Important......
the plane trees
with their paws like a lion; s
live for a thousand years
the chest-nut trees
live for three thusand years
the cypress-trees are upright for five thousand years
even the poplars live for seven hundred years
in greenery and white
how shoprter we live my brethren
how shorter we live
how shorter
this must be an important problem
is adjusted and equal to the
longevity of the lives of the horses yet
even
we are not equally satisfied with
the cworkld as much as them
most of us
bear burdens heavier than the
burdens
which are carried by the labour-horses
Nazım HİKMET
Translatıon metin şahin
poem by Metin Sahin
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The Death Of A Beloved
there is your dear cdead one there
at home
his or her photograph ıs stuck
somewhere in an esteemed corner
you look at it
without seeing it in sorrows
when they talk about your dead one
your heart hurts and deeply aches
secretly and silently
some tears on youyr eyes
at first
like all the other dead ones
yıur dear dead one
haunts the house at night
this lingers on for months till morning
and now..sometimes
sometime
it appears n unexpected moments
mostly when you feel terribly lonely
there is your dear dead one over there
at first
the empty place it has left
in your bed behind
is exteremely grieving
and then..as time goes by
the mourning ages
with the wearing off sheets
and like
aged..precious wine
it is tasted sometimes
in just one small cup
there is your dead one
in the twilight
lıke all the other dead ones
it is more closer to you
but seen more unclear
unclearly visible
there is yoıur dead one over there
in faCT
it is lying in the grave
itys flesh not wholly decayed yet
its hands and feet moving a bit
ı knelt down and looked at the soil
ı looked at the grass
ı looked at the beetles
ı looked at the flowers blue blooming
you looked like the spring soil my beloved
ı gazed at you admiring
then ı lay down
my back on the ground
ı see the sky above
ı see the limbs of the trees
ı see the flyıng storks
ı see dreams awake my eyes open
you also look like the sky of the season spring
there
ı see you my beloved
at night
ı lit a fire in the wilderness
ı touch the fire
ı touch the water
ı touch the cloth
ı touch the silver
you lok like the fire
lit under the stars
ı touch you
ı am among the human beings
ı like the human beings
ı like the movements
ı like the thoughts
ı lişke my struggles
ı like all the struggles aimed for goodness
and you
you are a human being in the season spring
my beloved
ı still love you
Nazım HİKMET..Translatıon Metin SAHIN
,
poem by Metin Sahin
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The Running To Spring
on a january day.sunny but cold
but no snow on ground
a girl was running to spring
jumping..hopping and springing..flying
as taken and opening a wing
the joy on her skirts
she collected and scattered
a girl was running to spring
hopping..jumping..springing
may be flying
as taken and opening a wing
clad in her best lovely dress may be
she was smiling
longing for a smile
ı smiled her
she smiled to me with her smiling cheeks
the girl was running to spring
some cats interrupted her way
she caressed them all
one by one..addressing each one of them
though the cats won't let go
the joy was scattering everwhere from her skirt
the girl was smiling
the girl was flying
the girl was running to spring
as taken and opening a wing
just like the early birds
the girl was running to spring
it was a lovely day
Metin SAHİ N
poem by Metin Sahin
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Occupation
when the dawn enlightens by the horns of my oxen
I plow the soıl with my prıde in my patient struggle
under my bare feet ı feel the soil humid and warm
with brilliant lights in my arm muscles
I forge the ıron till noon
the darkness turns to crimson
in the warmth of the afternoon
with the most greennes on their leaves
I gather the newly ripened olives
all my body and my eyes in lights
I have always have visitors in my house in every evening
my door ajar..wide open to every kınd of songs
at night ı go ınto the water knee high
and I pull the nets from the sea
full of fish mixed with the shining stars
now ı am responsible from the world
they ask me
about the human.the soıl, the darkness and the daylight
I think you understand me
I am fully occupied and busy
and you my rose
do you understand me too
I am fully occupied staying in love with you
you just stay there without moving
in the illumination
let the shining sun always stay on your green gown
my wound again has opened suddenly
the blood is fiercely flowing thorough me
in my full occupied body
BURSA 1948
Nazım HİKMET
Translatıon Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Comparison
sometımes
I recall the best expert poet yahya kemal
of the OTTOMANS
I see him in a window-shop
obesse and unhealthy
and..why I do not know
at the same time
I remember suddenly
The lame poet BYRON
struggling and dying on the GREEK MOUNTAINS
That is not a thing may be to be proud of
But I.in an haste drilled and went out of
my ten years of my imprısonment
and leaving my liver ache aside
my bosom is the same bosom
and my mind is still the same mind
we are alone even when we lie with our beloved
with dear ones side by side
but when we are left all alone and completely lonely
the crowd of the unıverse
with all its people living and unliving
says''I AM HERE''
and to encourage you
taps you on the shoulder
there are sparrows on the telegram wire
poor things ever
they do not know what a telegram is
and unaware of it
you.you.the ones who are doomed to be hanged
by greasy ropes
you you have made our comrades.. our natives
looking but completely blinds
Nazım HİKMET 1947
translation metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Dying
ı would like to die before you die
do you think that
the one who comes after
will find the one who has gone before
I do not think so
it is better you burn my body
and put the remnant ashes in an urn
placed on a shelf on the fire-place
the urn must be made up of transparent white glass
so that you can see me in it
you see
how self-sacrificing I am
I do not want to be terracotta
I do not want to be a flower
but want to be ash
to live together with you
and after sometime
when you die too
you will come into the urn also
and we will then live there together
with your ashes mixed in my ashes
till the day
when one of our clumsy brides
or an unloyal grandson without care
throw the urn out from there
but we
till then
we will be mixed with each other completely
our molecules will fall beside each other
side by side
in the wasteland to which we will be thrown
we will then dive into the soil together
and one day out
when a wild flower will sprout
from this little piece of soil
in her stem
there will bloom certainly two flowers
ı am certain
I know
one is you
and the other is me
but I..
I do not think of dying yet
my blood is still boılıng and flowing
I will give birth to off-springs yet
life is occupying inside me and overflowing
I will live with you together
more and more
I am not afraid of death also
but I not like the way of our held funeral ceremony
may be it will be changed
till the day we die
ıs there a chance of yours
to be freed and released from the prisons nowadays
some voice from inside me says
''PERHAPS''
1947
Piraye Nazım HİKMET
translation Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Don Quixote
the warrıor of the eternal youth
obeyed his mind throbbing in his heart
and so
one day in JULY
he went for a warfare
to acquire the claims
of the beautiful...the honest and the righteous
in front of him lay the cruel world
with her malicious and stupid giants
riding on his sad but heroine horse ROSINANTE
I know
what is to be longing deeply for this
what is to be brave with a huge unprevented pounding heart
there is no other way
we do it our way
for me and for DON QUIXOTE
than
to fight with the big giant wind-mills
it is a must for us
you are right DON QUIXOTE
your DULCINA is the most beautiful woman of this world
you certainly scream this truth
to the faces of the dealers and the rich merchants
but they will make you upset and pull you down
and punch you heavily and severely
but you
our thirst's invincible warrior
I am sure
you will insist on
burning like a huge flame
in your heavy..iron armour
and when you do so in favour of all
your DULCINA
will forever become
more and more beautiful
Nazım HİKMET 1947
translation metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Woman And Her Spring Child
spring has come
spring has come
she has blossomed in the trees
she has blossomed in the trees
the trees are leafing
the trees are leafing
slowly slowly
slightly slightly
everthing is greening
everything is greening
also grinning and grinning
flowers lflower in many colors
flowers flower in many colors
birds are singing gaily
birds are singing gaily
dogs are barking happy
dogs are barking happy
my mother in her grave
my mother in her grave
still waiting me come
still waiting to come
ı do not know where my father lie
ı do not know where my father lie
but the spring made me numb
but the spring made me numb
everybody is in the outdoors
everybody is in the outdoors
a woman is kicking a ball
a balll is kicked by a woman
she is really playing with her
one year old child boy
she is playing like a toy
a beautiful boy
with long hair
dark curly dark hair
trying to step into the spring
trying to step into the spring
the woman is kicking her troubles away
with the ball
the woman is really shooting her troubles
away with the ball
she is very fond of it
very very
kicks the ball again
kicks the ball again
the ball goes very far away
the balll goes very far away
nobody kicks the ball back to her
nobody kicks the ball back to her
the woman looks at her child
the woman looks at her child
nobody kicks the ball back to her
nobody kicks the ball back to her
cause everybody is not a poet
cause everybody is not a poet
the spring has come
the spring has come
blossoming in the trees
blossoming in the trees
but yet
nobody is ready to play
even a ball
the woman
never the less
with her spring child
tries to play
but nobody
kicks the ball back to her
and to the child
his first steps in the springhold
poem by Metin Sahin
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Fire By Night, Smoke By Day
It's fire by night and smoke by day
As we lay in our beds just thinking away
We wake in the morning to do what they say
It's fire by night and it's smoke by day
The sun starts to rise and the birds start to sing
We worry about what to do, what to wear and what to bring
We make a to-do list filled with everything
Just like the summer, the winter, the fall and the spring
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
Our day carries on as we're stuck to the clock
A slave to the ways of the tic and the toc
We carry a key but there isn't a lock
Trying to discover what is already lost
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
Our thoughts start to wander as night settles in
Engaged in a fight we're not ready to win
As we wait for a new tomorrow to begin
The fire starts burning all over again
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
poem by Navillus Tam
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Welcome
welcome you..my woman..welcome
you must have been tired
how can I wash your tiny and lovely
feet
I have neither rose water nor a silver basin
you must have been thirsty
i have no sherbet with ice cubes to offer you
you must have been hungry
i cannot lay and prepare you a table white linen clothy
my room is in prison and in penury like my country
welcome you..my woman..welcome to my room
now you have trodden your feet in my room
now..the forty years old concrete floor
has turned all to green moor
you have smiled
the roses bloomed on my windows' iron bars
you have cried
the pearls dropped in my palms
like my bosom wealthy
my room is illuminated with freedom now
welcome you my woman..you are welcome
but now it is parting time
now good-bye my woman..good-bye and bye
you said you would not cry
do not cry my girl
your eye-liner will sting your eye
you are in a cab now
there..you are crossing the city in whose prison i lie
the driver must be as older as me
he must have been watching you from the peering-mirror
he might understand a beautiful weeping woman in tears
may be he has someone lying in prison..
may be he knows me..may be he is one of us released lately
i know
this city..i gaze behind the iron bars
is a spa
is a tomb
and slk factory and a huge plane-tree
and the real citizens
are my citizens now
look how poor..how they are in distress and in penury
but when you looked at their face in tears
it was like a sun striking at their faces
i know you have come to this city once before too
you came and you did not visit me
is it true..my dear..my love
cry for this my dear rose cry
you must weep in tears for that
no do not cry and weep my dear i just said so
god damn me...do not cry
look around
me and the city is left far and far beyond
but in the, illumination of the afternoon
everywhere is within my illumination
nothing can escape from my paLMS
i know..you do not want to leave me too
now..you and me together
together my rose together
are descending to the most beautiful
from the mountains to the sea
the weather is like filtered honey
i went hunting in the afternoon
i have fallen in love with a she-deer
the eyes of deer are black
but mine's are greenish grayer
i was dragged vomiting blood after her
then eden opened her gates to me
you will lie there in the sun with your green eyes
and me..leaning on you
i will watch you
like watching the most wonderous event of the universe
you will strech and surround your arms around my neck
on my neck your weighing and swinging
i will taste the immortality from your crimson mouth
then with her eyes blue
with her curly hair wavering in the wind
with a short night gown just enough to hide the nakedness
that is to say some transparent
and even impolite... attractingly
in our istanbul
the spring season emerges from her bed and is erected suddenly
Nazim HIKMET
Translation Metin SAHIN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Come Before Winter
He said 'Come before Winter,
Before the verdant trees go bare.
For winter winds that blow are bitter,
May cool the embers truly rare.
Be here, to finally complete me,
The kind of love I know will stay.
Through changing seasons I may see -
A fire that burns till my ending day.
Be here, I will give you sweet affection
That warm through many a winter chill.
Embrace you with such tender passion
When we're one at last... please say you will.
Come before Winter and be my Spring
Bless my world with your many colors.
No other reason I have left for breathing,
I love you...the one I've been searching for.'
Cynthia Buhain Baello
August 10,2012
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Autumnale for M lady ernestine
The falling leaves dance in the breeze
and clothe the ground beneath the trees,
in autumn colours rich a rare.
The trees themselves will soon be bare.
Left no defence against the wind.
Their winter plans are well designed,
bare twigs and branches hold less snow
than useless leaves they have let go
The wintry gales to no avail
try hard but they are doomed to fail,
They can’t destroy the sturdy trees;
resisting with apparent ease.
Although they bow before the blast
they know that winter cannot last
The winds will die and fade away
the trees will they’re here to stay.
Spring will return the trees will green
as if the winter had not been.
The trees put on their new spring clothes
along with every plant that grows.
8-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Strangest Creature Of The World
you look lıke a scorpion my friend
you live cowardly ın darkness like a scorpion
you look like a sparrow my friend
you are in the haste of a sparrow
you look like a mussel my friend
like a mussel closed and comfortable
and you are terrible my friend
like the muzzel of a volcano
your number not one
you are not five
but unfortunately there are millions of you
on the world
you look like lamb my friend
when well clad cattle dealer with cloak
raises his baton
you immediately join the herd
and proudly
you run to the slaughter house quickly
that to say word by word
you are the strangest creature of the world
you are stranger than the fish living in the sea
but do not know anything about the sea
and in this world
the tyranny overwhelms the world for the sake of you
and if we are hungry
weary and if the blood is shed sparıngly
and if we are pressed and pounded fiercely to yield our wines
ı do not want to say that
and though ı do not intend this
but it is a reality
most of the faults are yours
behold it
and learn this learn
my dear brethren
Nazım HİKMET
translation Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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My Soul
A WIND OUTSIDE....darkness all around
on the windows searching aND tochsng a hand
a voice is calling me
fears are filling inside
a thin rain is drizzling all around
falling also on my note-book on my table
my eyes look nowhere but there
stop this rain oozing into my soul..stop it now
the wind outside is my own breath
the darkness is my own soul
stop this this rain...my etes stop it now
calling myself steadily for a long time
it cannot hear it..my voice..screaming has gone off
EKREM TASKINSEL
translation...Metin SAHIN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Valentine In Form Of Ballade
The soft wind from the south land sped,
He set his strength to blow,
From forests where Adonis bled,
And lily flowers a-row:
He crossed the straits like streams that flow,
The ocean dark as wine,
To my true love to whisper low,
To be your Valentine.
The Spring half-raised her drowsy head,
Besprent with drifted snow,
'I'll send an April day,' she said,
'To lands of wintry woe.'
He came,--the winter's overthrow
With showers that sing and shine,
Pied daisies round your path to strow,
To be your Valentine.
Where sands of Egypt, swart and red,
'Neath suns Egyptian glow,
In places of the princely dead,
By the Nile's overflow,
The swallow preened her wings to go,
And for the North did pine,
And fain would brave the frost her foe,
To be your Valentine.
ENVOY.
Spring, Swallow, South Wind, even so,
Their various voice combine;
But that they crave on ME bestow,
To be your Valentine.
poem by Andrew Lang
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My American Flag
Flag of the brave
Victory's only passage
With the Azure night
The dash of the fire ablaze
The stripe of pearly snow
Smybol of a victory
America's Victory
Soldiers true and brave
Trudging in the winter snow
Through the dark, hidden passage
The single, small fire ablaze
For I am of the dark night
Yet in my night:
I cry for victory,
I set my enemies ablaze,
For I am of the Brave
Within the hidden passage
The wind, the rain, the snow
Of the Sea, of the snow
Or hiding in the dark, cool night
Within every passage
In glorious victory
The symbol of the strong and brave
My fire within is ablaze
A Torch ablaze
The flash of falling snow
The strong and brave
In the night
Fighting for victory
leaving the passage
Victory has found a passage
The town is ablaze
Today is the victory
In the winter snow
The battle won this night
The shed blood of the brave
With the brave, in the passage
In the night, of the fire
Trudging in the snow, I won the victory
poem by Maria Robbins
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Looking, Watching, Waiting
It's Winter now,
And everything is cold and bare.
Used to be lush and green,
Covered in leaves.
The snow is melting.
It's getting warmer.
Spring is on it's way.
Now Spring has come
The snow has all melted,
And the trees are getting more leaves.
It's warm now,
And i can't wait for Summer to arrive.
Summer is finally here!
I go outside and run barefoot through the streets.
Windows are open and the birds are singing.
Summer is finally here!
Now Summer is gone, and Fall is in the air.
Soon it will get colder,
And i will once again be looking, watching, waiting,
For Summer's arrival.
poem by Vi Lanflagle
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Spring's Accomplishments
Spring brings with it a warm, gentle breeze
Along with the trees sprouting their baby soft leaves
Gently tapping the ground are the soft showers
Bringing around soft, springtime flowers
Now here they come, the butterflies and the bees
Attracted to the gardens and newly awakened trees
The trees emanate such a calming scent of sap
And the birds nestle down for a peaceful nap
As Easter approaches, the sunshine gets stronger
And as spring continues, the days get longer
The spring goes into a deep slumber
And who takes over then? It's summer!
poem by Caroline Bulleck
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Rich Bounty
The trees are bare from winter,
all the foliage is gone,
but if you look closely
you will notice their life is yet gone.
On each limb of the tree
there is the awakening of new life from within
as spring sings its song
with warm winds and gentle showers
to warm and water the earth
bringing forth the rich bounty
that summer is waiting for.
The hibernating creatures will soon awake
to fill the land once more
as we bask again under the blue sun filled skies
as season follows season
to enrich our lives.
9 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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