Spring
the smoke
which is descending from the mountains
and scattering
is not the winter smoke from now on
look ahead..
in the mist as soft as a child's hand
the grafting cloth of the rose trunks
are wet now in damps
the scars of the pruned trees are healing
in the bare limbs half asleep
but still neither a sprout or a leaflet
the embers have not fallen yet
it rained all night
like singing a victory song in showers
and now still
it is drizzling slightly brave and warm
more and more
and smiling like a brother
but it is still possible
of the south winds to blow again
even it will snow a little
but the SPRING...?
it is more than a herald now
on and on
The SPRING has come
Nazım HİKMET
Translation Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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