Of Him

Who is the first amongst us who says:
     'Brother of mine, hold firm!'
Who is the first of us to console the other?
Ivan or John,
     Van-Lin or Khalid?
Friends!
He wholly belonged to us,
He wholly belongs to us.

Comrades!
I feel that ache
     with the same force, as you.
I want to sob,
But the teeth are clenched
with the same force, as you.
I love him,
     as Lenin,
I love
as all of you love.
He was of another nation than mine.
But for which nation was he not of another?
People of the North,
          West,
               East
                    and South
They gazed into his sage and fine eyes.
They gazed admiringly
          and wondrously —
How clearly they discerned all the paths!
In them lay our good fortune,
     wherein each
          might
               find
                    his deliverance.
How many times my people,
     did not flinch from the thought of gaol,
Instead they inscribed the words:
          'Freedom,
               Independence,
                    Peace',
on the classroom blackboards,
on the walls of the factories
they wrote that name of his — those two syllables —
and sang of him,
          as a loaf of bread
     carried in a peasant's bag
          on his shoulders.

Comrades!
Soviet people!
A heavy day has come...
Are we truly without him, Comrades?
Are we truly alone?
No. We are not alone —
     we are with him and Lenin,
this means —
     we are together with the Communist Party,
the communists,
     with that special type
which considers
     the service of the People and the Motherland
     a matter of honour.

Nazim Hikmet

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