Tea With The Mad Hatters

It's 1962 March 28th
I'm sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
night is falling
I never knew I liked
night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain
I don't like
comparing nightfall to a tired bird

I didn't know I loved the earth
can someone who hasn't worked the earth love it
I've never worked the earth
it must be my only Platonic love

I just remembered the stars
I love them too
seeing them I could even think of death and not feel at all sad

I didn't know I liked rain
but why did I suddenly discover all these passions sitting
by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
is it because I lit my sixth cigarette
one alone could kill me
is it because I'm half dead from thinking about someone back in Moscow
her hair straw-blond eyelashes blue

I didn't know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty
to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return

-Nazim Hikmet



This poem reminds me of my grandfather who was a Mark Twain impersonator/writer
and a few vintage family photos.
But I suppose if a picture speaks a thousand words,
I should marry these so I could shut my mouth and enjoy the wine.