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Living is no laughing matter:

you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example—
I mean without looking for something beyond
and above living,
I mean living must be your
whole occupation.
Living is no laughing matter:
you must take it seriously,
so much so and to such a
degree
that, for example, your hands tied behind
your back,
your back to the wall,
or else in a laboratory
in your white coat and safety glasses,
you can die for people—
even for people whose faces you’ve never seen,
even though you know living
is the most real, the most
beautiful thing.
I mean, you must take living so seriously
that even at seventy, for example, you’ll plant
olive trees—
and not for your children, either,
but because although you fear death you don’t
believe it,
because living, I mean, weighs heavier.

From Poems of Nazim Hikmet, translated by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk, Translation copyright © 1994, 2002 by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk.

Reprinted by permission of Persea Books, Inc., New York. All rights reserved. No part of this poem may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.