The Death of Free Spirits

In the garden of Hafiz’s* tomb, it is said,
A rose, blood red, blooms afresh each day.
At night, until dawn, a nightingale weeps,
Its harmony reminiscent of old Shiraz.

For a free spirit, death is a peaceful land of spring,
Long years, everywhere, his heart like a censer smoulders.
And under the cool cypress trees, on his tomb
Every dawn a rose blooms; every night a nightingale sings.

Yahya Kemal Beyatlı (1884-1958). Rindlerin Ölümü. Translated from the Turkish.

*Hafiz of Shiraz – Poet, sufi from Persia, 14th century.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s