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THE CALL

nazim hikmet davet the call
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Galloping from far Asia,

a mare’s head stretching into the Mediterranean,

this homeland is ours.

Wrists bloody, teeth clenched, feet bare

and soil like a silk carpet

this hell, this heaven is ours.

Shut the doors that belong to another, never open them again,

destroy the servitude of one human to another

this call is ours.

To live free and solitary like a tree

and in fraternity like a forest

this yearning is ours.

Translation by Robin Turner, Former English lecturer at Bilkent University.

[The translation is my own – apologies for any inaccuracies. In particular, I couldn’t find a good translation for el kapıları – literally “the doors of strangers”. I also took some liberty in translating davet as “call” rather than the more common “invitation”, but I think it fits better.]


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