The Art of Marxism: poetry

The Walnut Tree

by Nāzım Hikmet Ran


my head foaming clouds, sea inside me and out

I am a walnut tree in Gulhane Park

an old walnut, knot by knot, shred by shred

Neither you are aware of this, nor the police

 

I am a walnut tree in Gulhane Park

My leaves are nimble, nimble like fish in water

My leaves are sheer, sheer like a silk handkerchief

pick, wipe, my rose, the tear from your eyes

My leaves are my hands, I have one hundred thousand

I touch you with one hundred thousand hands, I touch Istanbul

My leaves are my eyes, I look in amazement

I watch you with one hundred thousand eyes, I watch Istanbul

Like one hundred thousand hearts, beat, beat my leaves

 

I am a walnut tree in Gulhane Park

neither you are aware of this, nor the police