Poison

As a child, weeks were centuries for me;
Then they were hours, seconds then…
The first thought, non-existence gnawed at me:
Why do I exist, if my end is non-existence?

You too don’t exist, non-existence; you do, then you don’t!
Deprived of their own existence are human beings…
Let the scorpion of non-existence come and sting me!
The poison is the essence of life for mortal beings…

Necip Fazıl Kısakürek (1905-1983). Zehir. Translated from the Turkish.

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