NAZIM HIKMET'S VISION

We will stare
at the tall grass
outside the prison
your bones
by the workers' strength
as the Bosporus waves
are risen on the sea
there is a mercenary wind
on our assailed backs
from years of long suffering
but the iced wounds become
saplings after winter
in exile's hinterlands
there is no shame in justice
when scales fall
from motioning scales
and your offspring appear
in a black bearded chimera
of a warm greeting.