In Istanbul, in the prison yard

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In Istanbul, in the prison yard,
in the winter sun, after winter rain,
with the clouds, the red tiles, the walls and my face

moving in the water on the ground,
I, carrying the low
and strong and weak things of my body,
thought of you, of the world and of my country.

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İstanbul'da, Tevkifane avlusunda by Nazım Hikmet

Translated September 5, 2020

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