LETTER TO MY WIFE
My only one!
In your last letter you said:
My head is aching, my heart is dizzy
You said: if they hang you, if ı lose you ı could not live
You can live my dear wife,
My memories will be scattered like a dark smoke in the wind;
You can live red haired sister of my heart,
The grief of dead takes at most a year in the twentieth century.
A dead swinging on a rope
My heart is not consented to such a dead.
Be sure my darling,
If a hairy hand , like a black widow, of a poor gipsy put in the rope into my throat
They look in vein to see fear in blue eyes of Nazım!
İn the twilight of my last morning
Will see only you and my friends and
Took only the grief of an uncompleted song to the earth
My lovely wife,
With a good heart,
With a golden color,
Bee of mine with eyes sweeter than honey;
I do not know why ı wrote that my execution is requested,
The case is only just starting,
And they do not tear the head of people like a turnip.
Do not wory about all these
They are remote odds,
If you have Money
Buy for me an undershirt and underpants,
Sciatica pains of my legs are started up again,
And do not forget that
A wife of a prisoner should always thing of nice thoughts
Translated by M. Turhan Coban 23.03.2020 01:08