Nazim Hikmet

Here you will find the Poem A Spring Piece Left In The Middle of poet Nazim Hikmet

A Spring Piece Left In The Middle

Taut, thick fingers punch
the teeth of my typewriter.
Three words are down on paper
 in capitals:
And me -- poet, proofreader,
the man who's forced to read
two thousand bad lines
 every day
 for two liras--
 since spring
 has come, am I
 still sitting here
 like a ragged 
 black chair?
My head puts on its cap by itself,
 I fly out of the printer's,
 I'm on the street.
The lead dirt of the composing room
 on my face,
seventy-five cents in my pocket.

In the barbershops
 they're powdering
 the sallow cheeks
 of the pariah of Publishers Row.
And in the store windows
 three-color bookcovers
 flash like sunstruck mirrors.
But me,
I don't have even a book of ABC's
that lives on this street
and carries my name on its door!
But what the hell...
I don't look back,
the lead dirt of the composing room
 on my face,
seventy-five cents in my pocket,
The piece got left in the middle.
It rained and swamped the lines.
But oh! what I would have written...
The starving writer sitting on his three-thousand-page
 three-volume manuscript
wouldn't stare at the window of the kebab joint
but with his shining eyes would take
the Armenian bookseller's dark plump daughter by storm...
The sea would start smelling sweet.
Spring would rear up
 like a sweating red mare
and, leaping onto its bare back,
 I'd ride it
 into the water.
 my typewriter would follow me
 every step of the way.
I'd say:
 "Oh, don't do it!
 Leave me alone for an hour..."
my head-my hair failing out--
 would shout into the distance:
 "I AM IN LOVE..."
I'm twenty-seven,
she's seventeen.
"Blind Cupid,
lame Cupid,
both blind and lame Cupid
said, Love this girl,"
 I was going to write;
 I couldn't say it
 but still can!
But if
 it rained,
if the lines I wrote got swamped,
if I have twenty-five cents left in my pocket,
 what the hell...
Hey, spring is here spring is here spring
 spring is here!
My blood is budding inside me!

 20 and 21 April 1929
Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)