Hikmet: Çankiri Prison, 1938

The New Republic

You have read:

0 / 8

free articles in the past 30 days.

Already a subscriber?

Log in here

sign up for unlimited access for just $34.97Sign me up

POETRY FEBRUARY 3, 2013

Hikmet: Çankiri Prison, 1938

                                                                                                                          A Version

Today is Sunday.
Today, for the first time, they let me go out into the sun.
And I stood there I didn’t move,
struck for the first time, the very first time ever:
how far away from me the sky is
                           how blue it is
                           how wide.
I sat down, in respect, in awe, I sat down on the ground,
I leaned my back against the wall.
In this moment, there were no waves to fall into;
in this moment, there was no liberty, and no wife, my wife.
There was only the earth beneath me, the sun above me, and me.
And how I am grateful, I am happy, to have this thing I call my life.

share this article on facebook or twitter

posted in: poetry, joshua weiner, cankiri prison

print this article

SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS

Show all 2 comments

You must be a subscriber to post comments. Subscribe today.

Back to Top

SHARE HIGHLIGHT

0 CHARACTERS SELECTED

TWEET THIS

POST TO TUMBLR

SHARE ON FACEBOOK