A keresés eredménye

The Bow

Sounds well up from the deep
not even your love can help
Wait until it passes
Don’t strain the bow much tighter
you’ll snap it
 
The eye within you cannot see
the crawling thought in the dark
For now I am swathed in layers
from you the cloths have fallen
you are naked
 
A cool breeze is blowing
You, are all heat
My hands have slipped from yours, the bridge destroyed
How can I bring you to my side
You are distant
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.

So Many

What became of
So many love letters
That illuminated
Nights of longing
Maybe they weren’t sent
For fear of the dark
 
So many love letters
Written, left unsent
Years later
Read without being received,
Answers came
Without being sent
So many love letters
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.

Poem for Evening

Suddenly you remember
And he you – suddenly sometimes
Where is he? What’s he doing now?
A longing sparkles between the memories.
 
This ‘evening’ – what a strange word
It’s like hearing it for the first time, it makes me uneasy
Evening: Will I find him if I look upon the roads?
I don’t know
 
The fire will extinguish soon
and longing cool
We’ll meet again one day
One day, one half evening.
 
All of my work is dedicated to Ms Z. G., who is the real counterpart of Beatrice Portinari for me.