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I wish to die before you

I wish
to die before you.
Do you think one can find
the other after dying?
I do not think this.
You would better have me burned,
kept in your room in a jar
    on the stove.
The jar must be glass,
clear, white glass
    so you can always see me.
Understand the sacrifice I am making:
I will become no earth, no flower
    so I may stay beside you.
I turn dust
to live with you.
Then, when you die
you visit my glass.

And we live there
your ashes in my ash,
until a wayward bride
or ingrate son removes us.
But we will mix so well
by this time, that even in
our place of waste,
our parts will fall together.
We will enter the earth together.
And if one day a wild seed
is wet and sprouting in our dirt,
its stem will certainly
bear two flowers:
    one for you
    and one me.
I do not yet think of death.
I will make another child.
Life flows out of me.
My blood flows heat.
I will live, but much, very much,
but you also with me.
Death is not frightening.
It is just distasteful
how we are often buried,
but I suppose this will improve
by my time of dying.
Is it possible you might walk
out of prison these days?
My insides
    say maybe.

Ben Senden Önce Ölmek İsterim by Nazım Hikmet

Translated September 6, 2020

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