Назым Хикмет цитаты
Назым Хикмет
Дата рождения: 17. Январь 1902
Дата смерти: 3. Июнь 1963
Другие имена:Nazim Hikmet
Назы́м Хикме́т Ран — турецкий поэт, прозаик, сценарист, драматург и общественный деятель. Основоположник турецкой революционной поэзии. Коммунист с 1922 года. Лауреат Международной премии Мира .
Подобные авторы
Казимеж Пшерва-Тетмайер2
польский поэт, прозаик, драматург
Оливер Голдсмит17
английский прозаик, поэт и драматург
Валерий Яковлевич Брюсов10
русский поэт-символист
Генрих Манн15
немецкий писатель-прозаик и общественный деятель
Виталий Алексеевич Коротич31
советский поэт, прозаик, публицист, журналист, колумнист, с…Цитаты Назым Хикмет
„At eighteen you sleep without memories.“
— Nâzım Hikmet
From Human Landscapes from My Country, Book Two, Section VII
„Because of you, each day is a melon slice
smelling sweetly of earth
Because of you, all fruits reach out to me
as if I were the sun.
Thanks to you, I live on the honey of hope.
You are the reason my heart beats.
Because of you, even my loneliest nights
smile like an Anatolian kilim on your wall.
Should my journey end before I reach my city,
I've rested in a rose garden thanks to you.
Because of you I don't let death enter,
clothed in the softest garments,
and knocking on my door with songs
calling me to the greatest place.“
— Nâzım Hikmet
From Because of You (29 August 1960)
„You are free to be arrested, imprisoned“
— Nâzım Hikmet
Context: 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;
you are free to slave for others—
you are free to make the rich richer.
The moment you're born
they plant around you
mills that grind lies
lies to last you a lifetime.
You keep thinking in your great freedom
a finger on your temple
free to have a free conscience.
Your head bent as if half-cut from the nape,
your arms long, hanging,
your saunter about in your great freedom:
you're free
with the freedom of being unemployed.
You love your country
as the nearest, most precious thing to you.
But one day, for example,
they may endorse it over to America,
and you, too, with your great freedom—
you have the freedom to become an air-base.
You may proclaim that one must live
not as a tool, a number or a link
but as a human being—
then at once they handcuff your wrists.
You are free to be arrested, imprisoned
and even hanged.
There's neither an iron, wooden
nor a tulle curtain
in your life;
there's no need to choose freedom:
you are free.
But this kind of freedom
is a sad affair under the stars.
From A Sad State Of Freedom
„You may proclaim that one must live“
— Nâzım Hikmet
Context: 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;
you are free to slave for others—
you are free to make the rich richer.
The moment you're born
they plant around you
mills that grind lies
lies to last you a lifetime.
You keep thinking in your great freedom
a finger on your temple
free to have a free conscience.
Your head bent as if half-cut from the nape,
your arms long, hanging,
your saunter about in your great freedom:
you're free
with the freedom of being unemployed.
You love your country
as the nearest, most precious thing to you.
But one day, for example,
they may endorse it over to America,
and you, too, with your great freedom—
you have the freedom to become an air-base.
You may proclaim that one must live
not as a tool, a number or a link
but as a human being—
then at once they handcuff your wrists.
You are free to be arrested, imprisoned
and even hanged.
There's neither an iron, wooden
nor a tulle curtain
in your life;
there's no need to choose freedom:
you are free.
But this kind of freedom
is a sad affair under the stars.
From A Sad State Of Freedom
„Looking at this insolent earth,
you hear the first battle cry of our species-
trap it under a rock
and together, screaming, attack
and destroy it, as if killing a mammoth.“
— Nâzım Hikmet
From Human Landscapes from My Country, Book Two, Section VII
„At eighteen the heart shoots like a pebble from a slingshot
and the head doesn't sit on the shoulder.“
— Nâzım Hikmet
From Human Landscapes from My Country, Book Two, Section VII
„Loneliness feels like prison.“
— Nâzım Hikmet
From New Year's Eve (23 March 1956)
