Destine Literare nr. 23 - septembrie - decembrie 2012 - Scriitorii ...

You must love it…! (Kell, hogy szeresd…!)
“because silence has come out
in a human body in your dreams”
Attila Jozsef
You must love my poetry,
love it as much as you love me,
as much as love in me,
as much as your soul in my being!
You must love my words,
cover them with your words
gather them up among your words
go into ecstasy with your tongue
encourage with your lips
it does not matter if they sin!
You must love my tears
they water your flowers,
your neck makes the wheel beads
in them are the drops of the ocean
the deep silences of the universe!
You must love my silences
your silences keep quiet in them,
your dreams sleep in them
your wishes come true
the one which rolls over the stanza
for you here is rhyme!
P O E M S
The German Sea (A német tenger)
Your lip is as salty as the sea
because of your kisses my kiss has got thirsty.
I gently extinguish my love with your love
as I do me with you,
as above me there rises, and below me there rolls over
the law of ebbing and flowing tide. Faces,
the faces strengthen between you and me,
as do the sea shores between the sea and the sky.
Broken words (Felszakadt szavak)
If there is nothing left to save me but the words,
if they, too, are no longer able to do it, if you, yourself,
if you hold me above your face,
if not the morning whirl below us,
if your embrace melts me in you,
if in the noble beast,
if I am not the one who I was, if I am the one who you are
if you come back to attend my afternoons,
if I am a bunch of grapes in your net,
if I am but a half a loaf of bread,
if I have nothing to give you in exchange,
if the poem alone, if my copy of words alone,
if broken words,
if words,
if blind,
if, if.
estine iterare D L
Yesterday and Today (Tegnap és ma)
Otherwise does the voice of the birds within me grieve
Otherwise today than yesterday have our soles been
bleeding
The star fallen down onto the earth, is my face in your hand
The leaf shed by the poplar and waited for by the wind,
It is Wednesday (Szerda van)
I live from Monday until Friday.
The future is on Saturday, the past is on Sunday
What I am between them is important,
What remains is but explanation
because the third day is Wednesday
and I and you brilliantly lie in the fibre of existence
until the sun dies out within you
and the rushlights light before the windows.
On the Grecian Plain (Görög mezõn)
The fishes sleep in your feet
the kiss sleeps at the corner of your mouth
the embrace has already fallen asleep in your arms
like the hungry ones
And the song would have a rest in my head
But I urge/surge it, the time has not come, yet,
I try to catch the past minutes
in this motionless instant
Lord God, or whoever may be,
Pan or The Primal Matter,
whence has he taken the idea
of sowing stars on your eyelids
the moon on your lips, when you laugh
In your dreams it sounds as the clock strikes
„the net of silence shivers because of it”
I look at your serene face while at rest
And at the pale down at the base of the ear
I look at your hands, these two hands
resting here like two broken branches
ARON GAAL (UNGARIA)
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