Welcome, My Woman !
Welcome, my dear wife, welcome !
You must be tired :
How can I wash your little feet ?
I have neither a silver basin nor rose water.
You must be thirsty :
I have no iced sherbet to offer you,
You must be hungry :
I cannot give you a banquet
Laid on white embroidered cloth-
My room is as poor as my country.
Welcome, my dear woman, welcome !
Soon as you stepped into my room,
The forty-year-old concrete became grass;
When you smiled
The iron bars of the window blossomed with roses;
When you wept
My hands were filled with pearls.
My cell has become as rich as my heart
As bright as liberty.
Welcome, my own, welcome, welcome !
( Nizzim Hikmet )
( Original language : Turki )