Poem by Nazim Hikmet

Published july 30, 2010 09:27

To fall asleep,
my love, and wake up a hundred years later... "
" No,
my century doesn't scare me.

I'm not a deserter.
My miserable,
shameful century,
my daring,
grand,
heroic century.

I never regretted I was born too soon.
I'm a child of the twentieth century
and proud of it.
It's enough for me
to join the ranks in the twentieth century
on our side
and fight for a new world... "

" No, earlier--in spite of everything
And my dying, dawning century,
when those who laugh last will laugh best
(my awful night that come to light with rising cries),
will be all sunshine,
like your eyes... "