By Nazim Hikmet, Randy Blasing, Mutlu Konuk Blasing, Edward Hirsch
Whilst, at the eve of the second one international battle, Nazim Hikmet (1902-1963) -- Turkey's so much acclaimed and renowned poet -- was once sentenced to 28 years in felony for his Communist ideals, he launched into the writing of his epic, Human Landscapes from My nation. This 17,000-line verse-novel is made of a traveler's brilliant encounters with Turkish women and men from all walks of existence. In colloquial language, Hikmet levels their deepest hopes and griefs, and during those many human dramas, he files Turkey's ancient transformation right into a secular republic. Human Landscapes from My nation is "lively . . . cinematographic . . . [able] to seize the least scholarly reader" (Denise Levertov).Human Landscapes from My kingdom was once released in a abridged English-language model by way of Persea Books 20 years in the past. This re-creation marks a tremendous occasion in modern international literature.
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Additional resources for Human landscapes from my country: an epic novel in verse
What makes it any better if I kill him with my own hands, or do it from a distance? It wasn’t better, of course And he hurt and killed my people. Maybe even somebody I knew. She steeled herself, steadied her hands, and forced herself to clean the blade on his tunic. He could have chosen an honest living. He’s helping keep Dierna captive. He had a choice, he made it. And I’m making mine. She went back on hands and knees and eased through the brush toward the camp, making as little sound as possible.
If a sword has a nose. Tarma took a deep breath, quite well aware that her oathbound sister was waiting for some kind of reaction. “She’s neither fighter nor mage. ” Kethry wheeled her mare and got her head pointed toward the tunnel. “Whatever it has to. Protect her from magic, make her fight like a hellcat. Probably more than that, things I didn’t know it could do. ” Tarma considered that for a moment. “In that case, I’d better get on my way. ” When Kethry didn’t move, Tarma frowned. ” The sorceress grimaced.
And what else does this thing do that I don’t know about? What if it turns me into some kind of monster? But her grandmother trusted it. There’s no reason not to trust it, I guess, she thought, as a cramp seized her leg. She stopped and eased her leg out straight, waiting for a moment until it went away. But I can’t help but wonder how much Grandmother really knew about it. Maybe it hid things from her, too. A cheerful thought. Just then she reached the edge of a drop-off, with a screening of brush at the edge.