Another beautiful poem by Nâzım Hikmet.

I
Living is no joke,
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example,
I mean expecting nothing except and beyond living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.

You must take living seriously,
I mean to such an extent that,
for example, your arms are tied behind your back, your back is to the wall,
or in a laboratory with your white shirt, with your huge eyeglasses,
you must be able to die for people,
even for people you have never seen,
although nobody forced you to do this,
although you know that
living is the most real, most beautiful thing.

I mean you must take living so seriously that,
even when you are seventy, you must plant olive trees-
not because you think they will be left to your children,
but because you don't believe in death although you are afraid of it,
because, I mean, life weighs heavier.
1947

II

Suppose we're very sick, in need of surgery,
I mean, there is the possibility that
we will never get up from the white table.
Although it is impossible not to feel the grief of passing away somewhat too soon,
we will still laugh at the funny joke being told,
we will look out of the window to see if it's raining,
or we will wait impatiently
for the latest news from agencies.

Suppose, for something worth fighting for,
suppose we are on the battlefield.
Over there, in the first attack, on the first day,
we may fall on the ground on our face.
We will know this with a somewhat strange grudge,
but we will still wonder like crazy
the result of the war that will possibly last for years.

Suppose we are in jail,
age is close to fifty,
suppose there are still eighteen years until the iron door will open.
Still, we will live with the outer world,
with the people, animals, fights, and winds-
I mean, with the outer world beyond the walls.

I mean, however and wherever we are,
we must live as if there is no death...
1948

III

This earth will cool down,
a star among all the stars,
one of the tiniest,
I mean a grain of glitter in the blue velvet,
I mean this huge world of ours.

This earth will cool down one day,
not even like a pile of ice
or like a dead cloud,
it will roll like an empty walnut
in the pure endless darkness.

You must feel the pain of this now,
You must feel the grief right now.
You must love this world so much
to be able to say "I lived"...
1948