No Land's Man

No Land's Man

This world will grow cold,
a star among stars,
one of the smallest,
this great world of ours
a gilded mote on blue velvet.
This world will grow cold one day,
not even as a heap of ice,
or a lifeless cloud,
it will roll like an empty walnut round and round
in pitch darkness for ever.
For now you must feel this pain,
and endure the sadness,
but so loved this world
that you can say,
'I have lived'.
February 1948 -Nazim Hikmet