excerpts from Nazım Hikmet’s poem, felt, lace, embroidery
2021
97 x 83
The Walnut Tree
Nazım Hikmet
1 July 1957
My head is a foaming cloud, inside and outside I’m the sea.
I am a walnut tree in Gülhane Park in Istanbul,
an old walnut tree with knots and scars.
You don’t know this and the police don’t either.
I am a walnut tree in Gülhane Park.
My leaves sparkle like fish in water,
my leaves flutter like silk handkerchiefs.
Break one off, my darling, and wipe you tears.
My leaves are my hands — I have a hundred thousand hands.
Istanbul I touch you with a hundred thousand hands.
My leaves are my eyes, and I am shocked at what I see.
I look at you, Istanbul, with a hundred thousand eyes
and my leaves beat, beat with a hundred thousand hearts.
I am a walnut tree in Gülhane Park.
You don’t know this and the police don’t either.
Sown onto a stark imposing tree, the hardly legible excerpts from the poem, taken out of context resonate over time and attain a new significance. Wise old trees carry the memories of lives lived in this city, of its history, and its metamorphosis.