Gone

 

Night and snow on the window-panes.
The rails gleam in the white night
reminding you of going
          and never coming back.
In the third-class waiting room
a woman is lying,
      her feet bare,
      a black kerchief round her head.
          I walk up and down.
Night and snow on the window-panes.
Inside some people are singing -
      a song my comrade loved
                            so much.
His favourite song,
his favourite,
his-
Comrades, do not look into my eyes,
I am trying not to weep.
In the white night the rails gleam,
reminding you of going
          and never coming back.
A woman in a black kerchief
      is lying
          in the third-class
          waiting-room,
          her feet bare.
Night and snow on the window-panes.
Somewhere inside they are singing.

Nazim Hikmet