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Living like not existing Rescue me from this city, leave me alone and go. I'm looking for your pearl hands in the rivers of the first ages. My silence should'nt make you fear, there are mountains in me. That's a solid loneliness, you should know. I'm not going to escape, won't find myself, I'm out of you, you should know well Why are you in front of me in the blind of loneliness? Why are all the things slipping, I'm also. Why is my heart so strange, why are you absent? I can't take the sam loaded nights out of me. Why can't I forget them all at once? Let's hold my hands like a sky, I'm lonely as a dead.
30 sierpnia 2012
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ABOUT LIVING Let's say you're seriously ill, need surgery - which is to say we might not get from the white table. Even though it's impossible not to feel sad about going a little too soon, we'll still laugh at the jokes being told, we'll look out the window to see it's raining, or still wait anxiously for the latest newscast ... Let's say we're at the front- for something worth fighting for, say. There, in the first offensive, on that very day, we might fall on our face, dead. We'll know this with a curious anger, but we'll still worry ourselves to death about the outcome of the war, which could last years. Let's say we're in prison and close to fifty, and we have eighteen more years, say, before the iron doors will open. We'll still live with the outside, with its people and animals, struggle and wind- I mean with the outside beyond the walls. I mean, however and wherever we are, we must live as if we will never die.
29 sierpnia 2012
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ABOUT LIVING ABOUT LIVING Living is no laughing matter: you must live with great seriousness like a squirrel, for example- I mean without looking for something beyond and above living, I mean living must be your whole occupation. Living is no laughing matter: you must take it seriously, so much so and to such a degree that, for example, your hands tied behind your back, your back to the wall, or else in a laboratory in your white coat and safety glasses, you can die for people- even for people whose faces you've never seen, even though you know living is the most real, the most beautiful thing. I mean, you must take living so seriously that even at seventy, for example, you'll plant olive trees- and not for your children, either, but because although you fear death you don't believe it, because living, I mean, weighs heavier.
29 sierpnia 2012
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My Eyes are in Your Eyes My Eyes are in Your Eyes Do you always look so childlike? Do they always have this fire burning deep inside? There is something in your looks that calms me down; As if I at the shore of the calmest seas... I a sailboat now, at your harbor I came from thunderstorms, resting in you. I wish this tranquility, this silence never ends; I wish these matchless moments with you last forever... Never close your eyes, never let your light go away, My day, my light, my silkworm! My last flower alive in my fall garden! I wish my tired heart never sees grief with you; Don't separate your childlike eyese from my eyes, Your pure, honest, secluded eyes
28 sierpnia 2012
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If If.. IF It is not that important to leave and go if it didn't leave gaps behind that are impossible to fill. Stealing is not disgraceful, if it is the heart of somebody that is stolen. Love has nothing to be afraid of, if one could get rid of all skins. A known voice would not make one so upset, if it was never heard. The leakproof embraces would perhaps be forgotten more easily, if they were not wrapped with passionate love. The big hazel eyes would head to uncertainty as time passes, if they didn't look so crazy. It would perhaps be easy to forget the burning taste of a wet kiss, if the heart did not press on the rib cage that hard. The long night conversations could be replaced by something else, if the last cigarette was not shared breath by breath. It wouldn't snow even on the dreams, if the fears had not wounded love in the battles. Time, still as if it will never pass, would fly like an arrow, if the one that's worth waiting for would come at the end. Even the color of the hair in the dreams would fade away with time, if their inexpressible smell had not stuck on the pillows.
28 sierpnia 2012
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DƏVƏT DƏVƏT Dördnala gəlib Uzaq Asiyadan Aralıq dənizidə bir Kisra başı kimi uzanan Bu məmləkət bizim! Biləklər qan içində dişlər kenetli ayaqlar çılpaq Və ipək bir haliya bənzəyən torpaq Bu cəhənnəm bu cənnət bizim! Qapanı əl qapıları bir daha açılmanın Yox edin insanın insana qulluğunu Bu dəvət bizim! Yasamak bir ağac kimi tək və azad Və bir meşə kimi kardesçesine Bu həsrət bizim! Nazim Hikmet
13 sierpnia 2012
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plea plea PLEA This country shaped like the head of a mare Coming aaaa gallop from far off Asia To stretch into the Mediterranean THIS COUNTRY IS OURS. Bloody wrists clenched teeth bare feet Land like a precious silk carpet THIS HELL THIS PARADISE IS OURS. Let the doors be shut that belong to others Let them never open again Do away with the enslaving of man by man THIS PLEA IS OURS. To live! Like a tree alone and free Like a forest in brotherhood THIS YEARNING IS OURS. Nazim Hikmet (1902-1963)
13 sierpnia 2012
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DAVET DAVET Dörtnala gelip Uzak Asya’dan Akdenize bir kisrak basi gibi uzanan Bu memleket bizim! Bilekler kan içinde disler kenetli ayaklar çiplak Ve ipek bir haliya benzeyen toprak Bu cehennem bu cennet bizim! Kapansin el kapilari bir daha açilmasin Yok edin insanin insana kullugunu Bu davet bizim! Yasamak bir agaç gibi tek ve hür Ve bir orman gibi kardesçesine Bu hasret bizim! Nazim Hikmet
13 sierpnia 2012
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What do you love most in life? I love my family and my friends makes me happy, because they Well what do you like?
9 sierpnia 2012
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İstanbul’u Dinliyorum İstanbul’u Dinliyorum İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı; Önce hafiften bir rüzgar esiyor; Yavaş yavaş sallanıyor Uzaklarda, çok uzaklarda Sucuların hiç durmayan çıngırakları; İstanbul’u dinliyorum gözlerim kapalı. İstanbul’u dinliyorum gözlerim kapalı; Kuşlar geçiyor derken Yükseklerden, sürü sürü, çığlık çığlık; Ağlar çekiliyor dalyanlarda; Bir kadının suya değiyor ayakları; İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı. İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı; Serin serin Kapalıçarşı, Cıvıl cıvıl Mahmutpaşa Güvercin dolu avlular, Çekiç sesleri geliyor doklardan Güzelim bahar rüzgarında ter kokuları; İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı. İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı Başımda eski alemlerin sarhoşluğu, Loş kayıkhaneleriyle bir yalı Dinmiş lodosların uğultusu içinde. İstanbul’u dinliyorum gözlerim kapalı. İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı; Bir yosma geçiyor kaldırımdan. Küfürler, şarkılar, türküler, laf atmalar. Bir şey düşüyor elinden yere; Bir gül olmalı. İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı. İstanbul’u dinliyorum, gözlerim kapalı; Bir kuş çırpınıyor eteklerinde. Alnın sıcak mı, değil mi biliyorum; Dudakların ıslak mı değil mi, biliyorum; Beyaz bir ay doğuyor fıstıkların arkasından Kalbinin vuruşundan anlıyorum; İstanbul’u dinliyorum.
9 sierpnia 2012
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